Firebird's Fury: Book III of the Firebird Trilogy
by Darth Marrs
Summary: They had a plan, formulated from before they were even born. That plan died. From its ashes rises a Harry Potter no longer willing, or able, to let others fight his battles for him. Outgunned, outclassed, outmatched, nonetheless Harry will take up the sword to change not only Britain, but the world.
1. Not That Kind of Fairytale

A/N: Reviews for the final chapter of Book II are in my forums. Review responses for Book III will also continue in that same forum. Thank you for reading!

* * *

**Firebird's Fury: Book III of the Firebird Saga**

A Fanfiction by Darth Marrs

Note: This is a direct continuation of Firebird's Son and Firebird's Song. If you haven't read the first two, this will make no sense to you. Heck, even you did, it may not. Additionally, if you tried and did not like the first or second, you will undoubtedly not like this one.

Standard Disclaimers apply. I don't own Harry Potter or his world. Plotting and OCs are mine, yes, but not much else. This story was not written for profit.

* * *

**Chapter One: Not That Kind of Fairy Tale**

Shirley and Tom Dibbles lived a comfortable, middle-class life in Sheffield with their daughter Nancy. Shirley taught at Silverdale Comprehensive, while her husband Tom was a senior lecturer in Environmental Studies at Sheffield Hallam.

Their dual incomes allowed them a comfortable home on Chelsea Road approximately midway between each workplace, with a spacious back garden and neighbours who over the years had become close friends. In all, it was a very good life, and Shirley would have been content and happy, if not for Nancy.

Nancy was different.

Almost from the first, her baby girl stood out from the other children in the neighbourhood, and unfortunately not in a good way. While she looked lovely enough, she had an unhealthy pallor to her skin despite glowing health reports from her school. Additionally, she had the most startling brown eyes not so much of their colour, but in how very bright they seemed. But most disturbing was the shock of static electricity they felt whenever they picked her up.

At least, that's what Tom called it. "It's just static, love," he would assure Shirley every time she talked about taking Nancy into a specialist. "See, after a moment it passes."

It always did pass, but what followed was even stranger—a feeling of euphoria that made Shirley not want to put the baby down at all. That alone was as strange as the shock.

As Nancy grew older, the incidents began. Toys or snacks that were refused her suddenly ended up in her hands, and light bulbs tended to explode whenever she had a fit. Fortunately for both parents, it was easy enough to soothe her—a cuddle and a rock would usually be enough.

When she started school, Nancy's teachers reported that she did not appear to get on with the other students in her class. It wasn't so much that she was rude or mean—rather the other students seemed to grow uncomfortable around her after a few moments, and then proceeded to just ignore her.

Nancy cried almost an hour straight when she came home after that first day, moaning that none of the other kids would be her friend.

It did not get better as she got older, she just became desensitised enough not to let it bother her as much. That acceptance, as much as anything, broke Shirley's heart. She wanted her baby girl to be happy, but it seemed as she grew older that dreams of happiness became more and more unattainable.

She did her best to engage Nancy in other activities after school and between terms—Nancy enjoyed her violin lessons and she showed at least some talent, though she was far from a prodigy. She enjoyed swimming a great deal and even joined a swim club. She won every meet, until a rather shame-faced coach told Shirley that the other kids and parents were complaining. Nancy was so much faster than any of the other kids that parents were complaining it wasn't fair.

So, Nancy did not swim competitively any more. Still, there was always violin.

It was not unusual for Shirley and Tom to stay up late, sipping wine and talking quietly about Nancy and about their early dreams of having a second child. They tried for years just to have Nancy, and the specialist told them after Nancy was born that Shirley likely could not have another. They talked about adoption, but it was only talk.

Now that Nancy was ten, it was getting more and more difficult to ignore the fact that she was _different_. The girl insisted there was a ghost that hung around the cemetery, one time even trying to point it out to her parents in broad daylight. Of course, the Dibbles saw nothing.

But then there were the fits.

It was a recent thing they only started seeing as the last term of school ended. Mrs Tottensham reported an incident where the kids laughed at something Nancy did (Tottensham never actually saw it) and the girl screamed back at the kids. One of the windows in the class shattered as if struck by a brick, and the sound of her scream was so loud every teacher in the school came running, even the headmaster.

Not two weeks later, Nancy sat in the living room staring out the front of the house at a group of schoolmates playing football in the street, boys and girls. Nancy never touched the window; she just sat on the couch and stared out with a blank expression.

The glass cracked, but in a pattern that made it look like lightning falling amid raindrops. Somehow it seemed as if Nancy's dark mood literally imprinted itself on the glass.

So, on a warm night in late August, Tom and Shirley sat up in their bedroom with only Tom's reading light, sipping wine and talking quietly about what to do with Nancy. The latest incident involved a neighbour's girl, Sarah, who taunted Nancy about her eyes only to somehow end up covered head to heels in mud. Sarah's parents used to be good friends, but no longer, and the loss of that friendship stung.

They spoke about schooling options, including select schools and boarding schools. Their fear was that moving her to a new school would not solve the problem; it would just move the problem away. Unspoken, though both parents felt it, was a growing unease they themselves felt around their only child.

The conversation died abruptly though when they heard the creak of the third step on the stairs. Tom reached over and turned off his light before reaching under the bed for a cricket bat. As nice as their neighbourhood was, it wasn't unusual for drunken youths from other neighbourhoods to swing through their area causing mischief. They complained to the local constable, but were told just to stay inside.

Still in his thirties, if barely, Tom remained a fit, strong man who swam and exercised daily. Squatting down with the bat in his hand, Shirley had no doubt he could truly hurt someone. Thus it came as a shock when a shadow entered their room and Tom swung full-force, only for the bat to stop mid-air, caught by an impossibly powerful grip.

"Mr and Mrs Dibbles?" the shadow said in a whisper.

"Who the hell are you?" Tom said, fighting an urge to shout. He tried to jerk the bat back, but he couldn't.

"My name is Remus Lupin, and I've come tonight because you and your family are in immediate danger. I need you both to get dressed, gather what belongs are absolutely necessary, and then come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you're doing here!" Tom said.

"Mum, Dad?"

Both parents stared as Nancy walked in behind the stranger, accompanied by two more shadows. In the darkness, her eyes were clearly visible, lit by some terrible interior power. More terrifying still, though, was that the shadows on either side of her had the same strange light in their eyes—one a bright green, the other a shade of brown not too dissimilar from Nancy's.

"It's about your daughter, of course," Lupin continued. "You've always known she was different. There are many just like her—so many there is a school just for them. Ordinarily you would have a professor from that school come and talk to you and Nancy about it. But something terrible has happened, and now there are people outside your home this very instant who wish to do all of you harm. For her sake, we ask that you come with us."

"Look, mum, they're just like I am," Nancy said, sleepy but for some reason sounding pleased. "They even _feel_ like me!"

Lupin finally let go of Tom's bat and gave the couple an intense stare. "There are at least five people outside who are about to enter your home, kill you both, and take Nancy away. They are going to do terrible things to her if we don't get you out now. We have a safe house for other families of children like Nancy, but we have to go now."

The shadow with brown eyes sounded very much like a teenager when she said, "My parents just packed important papers and a few clothes when they had to run. We already have Nancy's things packed. Please, be quick!"

"They used magic, it was incredible, Mum!" Nancy said.

What finally decided them was the crash of their front door. The two shadows around Nancy hustled her into the room and quietly closed the door behind them. Terrified, Shirley ran to her wardrobe and threw on a pair of slacks and a blouse, and then grabbed several other sets of clothes and threw them into her overnight bag. She entered the en-suite loo to gather her things just as Tom left for his own wardrobe to gather his clothes. The third step creaked just as Tom began grabbing the family papers from the safe under his nightstand.

"Hermione, take the mum," Lupin said.

The girl with brown eyes moved closer to Shirley. With her eyes adjusting better in the dark, she saw a teenaged girl with a somewhat narrow, oval face that looked intelligent and quite fetching. What she thought was a hood was actually a mass of curly auburn hair, secured roughly in back with a hair tie.

"This is going to feel a little uncomfortable," she told Shirley.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then squeaked. "Professor, I can't _Apparate_!"

"Bugger!" Remus muttered. "They must have figured out what happened with the Petersons. Harry?"

Harry ran to the window to look over the Dibble's back garden. "Two Hit Witches, disillusioned, three more coming up the stairs. My portkey didn't work either."

"We're going to have to fight then, damn!" Remus said. "Mr and Mrs Dibbles, I need you to listen closely. We are going to be fighting using something that you cannot see, but Nancy can. If she tells you to move, duck or run, listen to her. It may save your life."

"I don't understand, what are you talking about?" Shirley said.

"We'll explain later," the girl, Hermione, said. "For now, all of you get into the loo. Now, please." She herded Shirley, Tom and Nancy into the loo. Once inside, she spoke not to Shirley or Tom, but directly to their daughter.

"Nancy, you're going to see lots of bright lights. Think of the lights as bullets—they're very dangerous. If you see any of these lights heading toward you or your parents, get them out of the way, alright? Remember—it's like that ghost in the cemetery. You and I can see her, but your parents can't."

"I understand, Hermione," Nancy said, as if to a lifelong friend.

Hermione closed the door, leaving the Dibbles with only the distant glow of a street lamp through their window. Nancy squatted down by the door peering out through a crack. Through the crack, Shirley could hear the strange trio speaking.

"Could we call in more help?" That was the girl, Hermione.

"We already have four teams out," Remus said.

"We're not losing another like Demelza," the boy, Harry said. "I refuse to let them take another girl! They're coming now."

Suddenly bright light and the sound of roaring fire filled the room, followed by voices shouting. Though the Dibbles could not see whatever was being exchanged, they could see fire, and hear the sound of crashes, booms and a sharp, pained scream. Nancy backed away from the door, her eyes wide with terror. Tom grabbed her and pulled into a tight, protective embrace that she made no effort to get out of.

Suddenly the door opened and the boy with the impossible green eyes looked down on them. The side of his face looked covered in blood, made black by the shadows. "Come on, we've got to move! Get your things!"

The Dibbles followed. Lupin knelt at the door, while Hermione was pointing a stick at a motionless body on the floor. "The other two are coming up the stairs now," Remus said.

Shirley, though, was staring at the shattered remnants of her bedroom. The bed stood on its side, all the lamps were shattered, and the wardrobe was on fire which the others simply ignored. Harry pointed his stick at the wall to the back garden and suddenly thrust it out as if it were a sword.

Shirley screamed as the hole the size of an auto appeared. Without waiting a moment for the dust to clear, Harry jumped out of the hole, down the twelve feet to the lawn, and landed with barely a bend to his knees.

He turned around and said, "Nancy, jump, I'll float you down."

Tom tried to stop her, but Nancy jumped before he could. Shirley felt her jaw drop as her daughter floated gently down into the boy's arms. He looked back up and said, "You next, Mrs Dibbles. Hurry!"

Shirley couldn't move—her legs were locked together. She barely had time to scream before Hermione pushed her through the hole. She felt a strange, pillow-like feeling around her as she sank gently to the turf. Tom came a moment later.

Hermione hopped down with no more effort than Harry, while behind them in the bedroom they heard more shouts. Suddenly Lupin ran through the hole in a powerful jump as the whole house exploded.

Shirley crouched down, sure she was about to die, but the most amazing thing happened. The fire from the explosion billowed right up to them and then stopped, roiling against an invisible barrier that seemed to emerge from the tip of Harry's stick. The blast seemed to last an eternity, but then was gone in the blink of an eye. The house did not burn, but the entire first floor was gone.

Harry shook his arm. "That was hard. Everyone okay?"

Nearby, Remus picked himself up from the grass. "The jinx is still there; we have to go on foot until we're beyond its range. I'm sure they'll be sending more soon."

Too terrified and confused to really protest, Shirley allowed herself to be herded along with her family down their lane. She did not understand why none of her neighbours had come out to see what happened to their home, or to them. Couldn't they hear what was happening?

Two blocks down, Harry straightened. "We're clear."

"Are you okay to apparate, Harry?" Hermione asked. "You're bleeding!"

"I deserved it for being stupid. Lucky I'm not dead! I'm fine, though, promise." He took Nancy, and before her parents could say a word disappeared with a _whoosh_ of air.

"Mrs Dibbles, I know you're scared," Hermione said. "We'll explain everything, I promise. Come with me, please." Shirley let the strange girl take her arm just as Remus did with Tom, and suddenly it felt as if she were being squeezed through a tube of toothpaste.

Moments later, she appeared in front of a refurbished country manor that still looked like the setting of a horror movie. Harry and Nancy were standing nearby, but her immediate thought was consumed by the need to retch, which she did all over the grass. Nearby, she heard Tom doing the same.

"Sorry about that," Hermione said, gently rubbing her back. The contact had the strange, euphoric warmth she had when she touched her daughter, after the initial shock passed. "Apparition is hard the first time, especially on Muggles. My name is Hermione Granger, welcome to the Potter Covenstead."

She held Shirley's hand as she guided her up the steps to the broad double-doors. Harry and Nancy were already through.

Shirley wasn't sure what to expect, but the manor inside was well lit with newly plastered walls and trim on the stairs, though it seemed sparsely furnished. There were also dozens of people ranging from children Nancy's age or younger, to adults dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, ranging from what looked like graduate robes to an odd leather robe on one woman. She couldn't help but notice that most appeared to be women.

One of them, a lovely woman wearing an oddly cut blue dress descended on their small party in an instant. "What happened?" she asked.

"They arrived seconds after we did," Harry said.

"And the curse?"

He touched his bloody face. "It was a choice of taking it myself or letting it hit Hermione. Are the other teams back yet?"

The other woman clucked her tongue. "You're the last," the woman in blue said. "Fred Weasley almost lost an ear, and Tonks was hit pretty badly. I have her in stasis at the moment until I get everything sorted. Anymore injuries here?"

The older man, Remus Lupin, said, "No. And don't let the injury fool you, he did spectacularly."

Harry, though, gave up listening and sighed in relief as the woman pointed another stick at the side of his head, and whispered. Shirley stared dumbfounded as the nasty, bleeding cut simply disappeared.

An unexpected hand on her shoulder made Shirley jump; she spun around with a gasp to see a creature so alien she almost screamed. The old woman looked like the villain from a fairy tale, with a long, pointed nose, unkempt black hair, deathly pale skin that seemed almost translucent in the lighting of the house, and a black dress and pointed witch's hat. Most disturbing of all, though, was the preternatural glow to her eyes. For a split second, Shirley wondered if she was looking at her own daughter's future.

The old hag even sounded like a fairy tale witch. "Hello, dearie. Oh, what a cute girl you have there!"

"Thank you," Nancy said, somehow unaffected by the frightening-looking woman. Shirley realized her expression must have given her fear away.

"Oh, don't worry, love. I won't hurt you," the ancient crone said with a chuckle. "Why, I was just like your lass there once. Granted, that was in 1794, but I remember it like it was yesterday! My name is Bathsheba Goldsmite—I'm a jeweller, you see. I've been selling beautiful things for almost two centuries now! But that's not why we're here, no, not at all. A hard night for you, no doubt, but a good night with no losses. Come, we'll have a chat and a spot of tea, won't we?"

"I don't…I don't understand!" Shirley blabbered.

The old witch laughed good-naturedly. "Oh child, I can see that. That's why we'll talk, you and the others. Come now, we have tea—and stronger drinks as well. Little one, you should come as well, dear. What's your name?"

"Nancy."

"Nancy ... A beautiful name! Come, then, child. Let's go have our talk."

"Will Hermione come too?" Nancy asked.

"Of course I will," Hermione said, smiling down at the girl. She then brandished a rather impressive ruby, set in an intricately fashioned gold ring. "Bathsheba there sold this ring to my husband. Do you like it?"

Nancy goggled at the ring, and even Shirley had to admit it was impressive. "Husband?" she asked, as Hermione's words registered fully. "How old are you?"

Hermione looked up at the older woman and without smiling, said, "Too young to be married. It's a long story. If you will?"

With the old crone and young witch in the lead, Shirley and Tom walked across the spacious entry way into a sitting room to the left of a magnificent if neglected stairway leading up to the two wings of the manor. Within the sitting room sat four other families who looked startlingly like Shirley and Tom themselves. Not physically, perhaps, but in their obvious states of shock, tattered dress, and the fact that all of them had girls, usually one, though the family in the far corner had two girls.

Bathsheba walked toward the front of the room while Hermione went behind them and walked right to a well-stocked bar against the wall that also happened to have large containers of steaming tea. She poured three cups, and then looked at Shirley with a wink and added liberal doses of brandy to two of them. Shirley did not protest and accepted the cup gratefully as she and her family found the last sofa in the room and sank tiredly into it.

Meanwhile, the old woman looked over the crowd of shell-shocked parents and children. "Hello, dearies. I know it's been a long night for you all, but I think we'd all agree you deserve some answers. I'm afraid you'll have to get them from me since things are a mite hectic at the moment. My name is Bathsheba Goldsmite. And I'm probably even older than I look! Why, when I was a little girl, my father could not even hold public employment because we were Jews, you see. In case you're wondering, I am two hundred and fourteen years old, and I am a witch."

The parents were so numb from the shocks of the evening, that none could summon the energy to be shocked. "When I was eleven," Bathsheba continued without missing a beat, "a lovely older woman came and told my Papa and Mama that I was a witch, and that I was to be trained in magic. Papa refused because of course, I was a girl, and Jewish girls were not allowed to go off to school. In fact, I'm fairly certain he was going to stone me in the backyard! But that did not matter. Magic was run by witches, and even then they had little tolerance for intolerant fathers. And now your little girls are in the same position I was. They are magical, and in a perfect world they would be going to a school to learn their magic. But something terrible has happened, and that's why we had to save you all."

As the kind but ancient witch wove a terrifying tale of evil witches and wizards and a civil war being fought in large part by mere teenagers, Shirley Dibbles found her eyes drifting to where Hermione stood. Under full lighting, the young woman looked exhausted, with dark circles under her bright brown eyes. She hugged herself, and in one hand clasped her stick…no, wand.

The door opened to reveal the lovely woman in the blue dress from before, and old Bathsheba paused. "Ahh, this is Mary Carlisle, a magical healer and physician. She'll be handing each of you a small cup of liquid that we need you to take."

The pretty woman who healed Harry earlier carried a tray of small silver cups. "What is it?" one father asked.

"It's a potion to protect you while you stay here," Mary answered before anyone else had a chance. She spoke as she continued handing the potion out. "Everyone knows about the experiments the Nazis performed during the Second World War. What most of you don't know is that there was a magical conflict at that time as well. A Dark Wizard named Grindelwald allied himself to Hitler, and experimented on how magic affected the non-magical. The results were quite worrisome. You all need to take this potion to stay safe while you're in this house."

By now, Shirley had felt so much fear that this latest bombshell only served to make her numb. "How does 'magic' affect us?"

"Cancer," the healer said as she finished handing out the cups. "Magic acts much like radiation to you. It changes us as well, but our bodies are saturated with it already. But for you, long-term exposure to magic-saturated areas can in best-cases lead to skin cancer and in worst cases leukaemia and brain cancer. Even with this potion, you'll only be able to stay here for two days before you'll have to seek different housing."

This caused an increase in angry muttering from the parents around her; Shirley simply looked at her husband, who looked back numbly. It was at this point that another woman entered. This one was tall and lanky, with short, spiky hair. She had the same witch-eyes as everyone else.

"Okay, you've all heard the bad news," the woman said. "My name is Sybil Trelawney, and I'm a professor at this school. This is how it's going to be. Magical England is in a state of civil war, and you are one of the major points of contention in that conflict. There is a powerful force that wishes to take your children from you, kill you to prevent you from complaining about it, and then sell your little girls to a race of monsters who will use them to propagate their race. It is a fate exponentially worse than death. We wish to ensure that your daughters are taught to safely harness their magic and grow to be good, contributing members of society. In times past, you would be contacted when your child reached their eleventh birthday before September 1st of any given year, and they would be forced to attend school because accidental magic is dangerous. We contacted you early because the alternative was too awful to contemplate. But we are not the Ministry, and we do not feel we can hold anyone against their will."

The young man who helped save them, Harry with the Green Eyes, stepped into the room and looked over the parents. "If you leave, we will remove the memory of this night from your minds using magic. However, as Professor Trelawney pointed out, accidental magic is dangerous. My own grandmother was almost killed by my mum's accidental magic when she was eleven. More important, though, the Ministry can, and is actively tracking cases of accidental magic to find your little girls. And we've already told you what will happen if they find you."

In a one-two-punch, Trelawney continued. "The only way to ensure yours and your daughter's safety is for you to leave them here where they will be educated both in magic and in preparation for their GCSEs in a boarding-school setting. There are several dozen children already here. You will be free to return to your homes, with the exception of the Dibble Family."

"We're sorry your home was destroyed," Harry said directly to Shirley. "Nancy's accidental magic alerted the Dark Ministry and we had to rush to reach you. If you give it a day or two, you should be able to return to file any insurance claims you have."

"Wait, they were attacked?" It was the same father who demanded to know what was in the cups.

"Bad witches came!" Nancy announced, proud of such a terrible story to tell, as any ten-year-old would be. "Harry and Hermione and Professor Lupin fought them with magic! It was amazing! And then they floated me out of the house and when it blew up Harry stopped the fire from reaching us with magic and then magicked us here and he's the most awesome wizard ever, better than Gandalf!"

The girl's enthusiastic run-on sentence brought a few tired chuckles. Harry just shrugged. "We only fight when it comes down to saving lives. Your girls are worth fighting for. The question you have to ask yourselves now is whether you love them enough to let them go. As bad as that sounds, it's the only way we can be sure."

"Think on it tonight and let us know tomorrow," Trelawney said. "In the meantime, we have beds and snacks for everyone."

"Try to get some sleep," Harry said.

"Like that's going to happen," Tom muttered.

Shirley just shook her head and looked down at her precious, completely alien little girl As if reading her mind, Nancy looked up and patted her hand. "It's alright, Mum. At least I'm not alone anymore."

Shirley tried to force a smile, but she just couldn't do it.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	2. Goblins Suck

A/N: Chap 1 Review responses are in the Firebird forum like normal. As with Book II, this chapter goes back to just days after the ending of Book II and will be chronological from here. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Goblins Suck**

Two months earlier…

"_Do you know where my mum is?"_

_It was the same girl, the same little girl who had been visiting Harry's dreams every night since the night Dumbledore died; the night Justine was poisoned. The dream itself had become rote—the same table in the middle of the Hogwarts Great Hall with the same chess pieces on the board. The first time he had the dream it was his mother playing against Voldemort. Now, though, her seat sat empty and Voldemort looked at him with a blank face. _

_Around the table in a ring stood all the people in Harry's life who had lost theirs. His Mum and Dad stood a few inches apart—James looked confused and reached with one hand toward Lily, but she looked angrily at the board and ignored the pleading gesture. Justine stood on the other side of James, dressed in the same nightgown she wore when Harry ripped her soul from her body so that she might know some respite in death from the pain the Dark Sabbat's poison caused during life. _

_There were others, though. Charity Burbage stood near Lily, naked, bruised and battered just as she was when Voldemort killed her. Cedric Diggory stood near Justine, smiling sadly at Harry. The Dursleys stood a little away from the rest—Vernon looked furious, Dudley surprised and Petunia terrified. Minister Fudge looked up and about as if completely lost, while Alastor Moody glared angrily at the Dark Lord._

_And Albus Dumbledore stood in front of them all, stroking his long white beard with thin, emaciated fingers. "You need to take your seat, Harry," the ancient wizard said. "The game can't truly begin until you do."_

"_But I'm not ready!" Harry said, fighting back a terrible sense of dread. "Where's Amelia? She's the leader!"_

"_She's a knight, certainly," Dumbledore said. "But she is neither king nor queen."_

_To Harry's shock, the white knight jumped out from the line of pawns, and Amelia Bones stepped past Harry to take a seat at the table. Voldemort smiled, but it was a hungry, dangerous smile. He moved a pawn forward to free up his black queen. _

_Before Harry could say anything more, though, the little girl tugged at his pants. She was no more than four or five years old, with beautiful golden curls and the large blue eyes that only the very young could have. "Do you know where my mum is?"_

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Harry woke in a cold sweat in an empty bed in the house where his parents died fifteen years ago. With a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the same bed his parents once slept on. Or one of them, anyway.

It seemed odd that his parents slept in separate beds.

The Master Suite of Potter's Cottage sat otherwise quiet, furnished with his parents' things that somehow survived untouched for the past fifteen years. He knew outside the door, in three other rooms, were women that he was married to. He supposed, on further reflection, his parents' separate beds did not seem so strange after all given the state of his odd group marriage.

In the days that followed the deaths of Albus Dumbledore and his fourth wife Justine, with Amelia Bones and Sybil Trelawney working hard to salvage what was left of the Light Covens into a coherent group that could summon the ICW and restore the balance of the Sabbat, Harry thought he would receive combat training from Shacklebolt, Tonks and Remus.

In the back of his teenaged mind, this translated to him becoming a super-soldier wizard so he could swoop in on his broom to burn the Dark Sabbat and Voldemort to ashes in a cloud of righteous fury for what they did to Justine and so many others. And then when he was done, he dreamt, he would fly back to his house to have lots and lots of sex with the three pretty girls he lived with as wives.

Of course, none of those dreams came true.

There was training, no doubt. But even after drilling for hours a day, Harry still couldn't beat Shacklebolt or Tonks in a fair duel. He was gobs more powerful than either one, but all that power didn't matter when he couldn't land a spell on them. He liked to think he was getting better, but he had little to prove it.

But what really befuddled the mind of young Harry Potter was that even with three wives he did not get sex every night. Though he'd never imagined it, it turned out that girls just sometimes weren't in the mood. And having access to three girls didn't change that, because what generally happened was they all were not in the mood at the same time. Even Tori, when she realized that Harry would not get rid of her even if she didn't sleep him every night, lost much of her libido.

The pall cast by Justine's death over them all just made it all worse. Harry was, apart from everything else, a teenaged boy. Thinking of sex was as natural to him as breathing. Whenever he saw Luna or Tori walking about the house in their pyjamas or sky-clad, as was Luna's wont, he felt that magical pull from the base of his groin an almost maddening desire to go ravish either of them. But every time it happened, the feeling of desire was crushed by overwhelming, numbing guilt that he could even think of such things only five days after putting his fourth wife in the ground.

It was confusing and heart breaking for Harry, and he just did not know how to handle the conflicting feelings. Unfortunately, neither did any of the rest of his young, inexperienced family.

Hermione was simply heartbroken and not interested in any intimacy. She spent most of her time in her room, emerging only to eat. Harry wanted to make her feel better, but given his own upbringing and social isolation, he did not know how.

Astoria was depressed because her own mum was a part of the ambush of the Dark Sabbat that killed Justine. Despite how horribly she was treated growing up, to have one's mother actively try to kill you was still a shock.

And Luna…Luna was having her own issues. "How am I supposed to lead this family, Harry?" she said softly to him that first night he came to her after they moved into Potter's Cottage for the sake of having their own home apart from the Order. With the _Fidelius_ charm renewed on the property and Luna as the secret keeper, they did not fear their positions being compromised.

Life was truly full of disappointments, and the utter lack of sex was just the beginning. The next disappointment came when Hermione cast a glamour charm on herself and went shopping two days after they moved in. She came back two hours later with only one small brown bag of supplies and announced, "We're out of money."

That is what set up the series of events that led Harry to realize the Order of the Phoenix had different priorities than Harry did, despite his supposed role as the Order's _raison d'etre_.

He passed the word that money was a problem, and his getting up at such an ungodly hour was a result. He managed a quick shower and walked down the stairs of the still sleeping house just in time to see his former Divination teacher, Sybil Trelawney, arrive via _Floo_ with Nymphadora Tonks. Harry knew of Tonks from earlier in the summer when she and Amelia Bones evacuated those people who helped him at Hogwarts back to their homes. He also knew that their Floo connections were dedicated and warded to hell, and patently illegal. Shacklebolt didn't even bother to explain how he was able to hide their network of dedicated Floos from the Ministry, and Harry didn't ask.

"Well, Harry, are you ready?" Tonks said, bouncing on her feet with excitement.

"Can't wait," Harry said with a yawn.

To his utter and complete shock, Tori dragged herself out of bed long enough to shout down the stairs, "Harry, can you get me some ice cream while you're out?"

"Only if I don't die first," Harry called back.

"Okay, thanks," she said before walking back to bed.

Tonks chuckled. "Cousins. They can be a pain—probably why you shouldn't marry them."

"I guess," Harry muttered. He waited a moment later, looking up the stairs hoping that Luna at least, or maybe even Hermione, might say goodbye before he left. After all, it was going to be a dangerous mission. Neither came down, though.

He turned with a sigh and saw the older women looking at them. "I guess I'm ready."

An hour later, Harry and Tonks walked down Diagon Alley as if half of witch-born England were not hunting for their heads. Harry wore a wig giving him dirty blond hair, with a very minor glamour to hide his dark eye-brows and his scar. Topping if off were a pair of brown Muggle contact lenses. Beside him, Tonks had morphed into an unremarkable woman with the same shade of hair as Harry himself.

"Stay close, Norbert," Nymphadora Tonks said, a snicker just under the words.

"Yes, _mum_," Harry Potter said, not laughing in the slightest. He knew Tonks was just trying to get a rise out of him to get him out of his funk, but he wasn't ready for that. None of his fractured family was quite ready for laughter yet.

They reached Gringotts where two snarling goblins stood guard on either side of the door with enchanted halberds that could slice through the most powerful shielding charms. Harry knew from history class that Goblins did not have magical cores like wizards, and so could not wield wands or staffs. However, they did have a powerful, tactile magic that allowed them to enchant objects with a skill few wizards could compete against. Their weapons were typically the recipients of their most powerful enchantments.

Harry never had good dealings with Goblins. The creatures hated wizards with a passion, and had no problem using their labyrinthine rules to rob wizards blind, even while staying within the letter of the law. They did not like Harry because, as a magical omniglot, Harry could understand them. The first time he heard Gobbledegook was listening to them insult other customers and calmly discuss robbing Harry of his inheritance from Sirius Black by simply not telling him about it.

Now, as they walked in, Harry heard one of the goblins snarl to the other in Gobbledegook. "_The woman's appearance is false."_

"_So is the boy's. He wears a wig and glamours. Alert Fingersnapper_."

"Bugger all," Harry muttered as they stepped through the door of the bank. "They saw through our disguises."

"Of course they did," Tonks said with forced casualness. "Best security in the world at Gringotts. No worries. We will request to do our business in private, just like all the other crooks, murderers and dark lords. Once we have him in a closed space, we can explore our options."

They did not make it four meters into the bank lobby when a lumpy, repulsive-looking goblin covered in coarse hair and hairy warts intercepted them. Though his face and hands were disgusting, the creature wore acromantula silk pantaloons and blouse with a jacket and bowtie. This must be Fingersnapper, then. "State your business," the creature said with a snarl.

"Our business is private," Tonks said.

"And privacy is expensive," the Goblin snapped back.

"We can discuss that in private too," Tonks said. She did not smile—witches who smiled at Goblins often found themselves abducted in the middle of the night and forced to bear goblin offspring for the remainder of their lives.

With a curt wave of his hand the goblin guided them into a small room off the main lobby. The moment the door closed, the lumpy, thick-bodied goblin somehow had a sword in hand and to their throats. "Reveal yourselves."

Tonks shifted into her true form—a still very attractive young woman with a heart-shaped face and the dark hair of the Black family. Harry reached up and dissolved his simple glamour and removed his wig. "This is Nymphadora Tonks, and I am Harry Potter. I am a bonded wizard of fifteen years and have successfully completed my OWLS. I wish to claim my accounts."

"You are not bonded to this one," Fingersnapper snapped.

"I'm his bodyguard," Tonks said.

"Then he throws his life away carelessly," the Goblin said with dripping sarcasm.

"Try to harm him, and you'll fear for yours," Tonks said, this time dead serious. "I was trained by Mad-Eye Moody himself. Now, are you going to do business or not?"

"The Ministry has issued a warrant for Potter's arrest," the Goblin said.

"Since when do Goblins heed Ministry arrest warrants?"

The goblin's grin looked frightful. "Since we have the promise of Muggleborn witches in payment for our cooperation." He then pulled a two-foot long sword from his two-inch deep pocket.

Harry felt a hard, cold knot form in his stomach at the Goblin's grin. Before Astoria entered his life, he never truly gave much thought to Goblins and witches, but since that time the idea that some unwanted witches were given to the Goblins as playthings every year sickened him. What Fingersnapper was saying now was more than just repulsive—it was terrifying.

If she was thinking similar thoughts, Nymphadora didn't show it on her face. Instead, she demonstrated just what it meant to be the protégé of Mad-Eye Moody. Before Harry could even blink, Tonks lashed out with her foot in a roundhouse kick, knocking the point of the sword away from her face and giving herself room to brandish her wand.

Unfortunately, the goblin was astonishingly strong and very fast. He spun full circle to swing his sword at her from her left side while she prepared to curse him. It was only Harry's fast and desperate stunner that stopped him and sent the goblin into a wall. However, instead of falling unconscious Fingersnapper immediately jumped to his feet and rushed forward with his sword, only to stumble as Tonks pointed her wand and whispered, _"Imperio_."

The goblin stopped, but his face continued to be warped by an angry snarl as he fought the curse. Tonks straightened and kept her wand trained on the goblin, even as sweat beaded on her forehead. "Damn these buggers are tough," she grunted.

"What's the wand motion?" Harry asked as Tonks struggled.

"Clockwise swish and jab, and lots of intent!"

Harry pointed his wand and thought of Justine in the hands of such a creature, or Hermione, or Tori. Outrage boiled up inside him, and when he felt as if he would explode with anger, he followed Tonks' instructions, swished and them jabbed his wand at the creature, and said, _"Imperio!"_

He felt as well as saw his magic reach out and envelope the goblin over Tonks' own weakening efforts. He felt the goblin's mind as a small ball of grease struggling to slip through his mental grip. He pushed anger and magic forward through the Elder Wand and gripped down harder, until all will within the goblin came to a halt.

"You will empty all of the Potter vaults, and any other vaults Harry Potter is entitled to, into trunks with feather weight and shrinking charms," Harry said, pushing the thoughts behind the words through his magic. "You are to tell no one what you are doing until it is complete. When you are done, you are to bring the trunks to the apothecary shop up the block, where a woman will identify herself as Eunice. You will give her the trunks and then return to the bank, where you will forget any of this ever happened. If you are successful, you'll get a Muggleborn of your very own."

The goblin nodded with a sickeningly happy smile.

"Go now!" Harry ordered. He released his flow of magic, but somehow continued to feel on the edge of his mind the suborned will of the goblin as he turned and left the room.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you should not be that good with an Unforgiveable!" Tonks said, wide-eyed.

"You said it was intent based—I have a lot of will regarding creatures that only exist through rape. Can you do my glamour again?"

"Of course, you can cast the _Imperius_ curse on a goblin, but can't even magic your eyebrows blond. Why not?" She cast the glamour and he placed his glasses back on. She morphed herself back into his "mother" before opening the door. The rest of the bank looked the same as before—lines of nervous looking witches and one or two wizards going about their business of depositing or withdrawing gold, while around them walked fierce, angry goblins that secretly ridiculed and cursed the very source of their income.

The two goblin guards watched them in silence when they left, but they carried nothing on their persons that belonged to the goblins, and since all rooms were charmed with silence and privacy charms, no one heard or noticed their brief fight with Fingersnapper. Since no interior alarm had been raised and they had nothing stolen, the guards did nothing to stop them from leaving.

They made their way back up the alley until they reached the apothecary Arabella Figg owned. She and Sybil lounged casually at the counter, though Sybil's wand was on the counter not even an inch from her fingers. "Trouble?" Sybil asked sharply. Like Harry, Sybil had a hefty price on her head.

"Just another Azkaban-worthy crime to add to Harry's case file," Tonks said lightly. Her appearance suddenly changed to that of Cassandra Greengrass, the proxy Dame of the Black Coven whose machinations to kill Harry's existing wives and replace them with her eldest daughter ended in Daphne Greengrass's death, and Harry's bonding to Daphne's younger sister Astoria.

Arabella smiled at the former Auror's choice of appearance before walking up the stairs to the small apartment over the store. As a squib, she could not contribute to any fighting to be done, if it came to that.

The first floor was empty, of course—Arabella knew better than to live in Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, Floo and apparition access was strictly controlled in the alley—restrictions not even Shacklebolt could get around. However, the first floor had a fire escape at the back that actually led not into Diagon Alley, but onto a Muggle car park behind a solid row of buildings on Charing Cross Road that bordered the magically expanded land that housed Diagon, Knockturn and other varies alleys in the magical quarter of London. It was one of only a few buildings in the whole quarter that had direct access to the Muggle world.

In the silence that followed, Tonks said, "You know this isn't going to work, don't you two? You can't steal from Gringotts. Even the few thieves who managed to make it out of the bank ended up with their heads on a pike within one day."

"That's just it, he's not stealing. It's _his_ gold," Sybil said. "Harry, get your cloak on, just in case. I'm going to be disillusioned as well. If there is any trouble, don't hesitate, either of you."

At Sybil's direction, Harry removed his invisibility cloak from his pocket and hid under it just inside the door, while Tonks went about pretending to belong in the store despite wearing the face of a woman who had not had to work a day in her life.

An hour later, Fingersnapper walked into the apothecary store unarmed. He walked right up to the counter of the store and said, "Who are you?"

"Eunice," Tonks said with a blank expression.

Without further comment Fingersnapper removed from his trousers four shrunken trunks which he placed on the counter between himself and Tonks. With a touch of his clawed finger, each trunk expanded to the size of Harry's school trunk. When they opened, each bulged with gold coins, other precious metals, and odd heirlooms from the family vault, both those that belonged to Harry's family, and those that belonged to the cadet branch of the Blacks that he inherited from Sirius despite the man's attempt to kill him. There were even items from the vault of Albus Dumbledore.

Tonks looked over the trunks with wide eyes. "That's a lot of money. Okay, goblin, return to the bank and forget this happened."

Fingersnapper looked at her blankly a moment before his thin, rubbery lips parted to expose a mouthful of sharp teeth. "Do you really think we goblins don't have means of dealing with your pathetic magic, witch?" Behind him, the door burst open as five more goblins rushed into the room wielding enchanted crossbows and swords.

"Oh fuck me," Tonks muttered.

"We will, repeatedly," the goblin leading the force said with a nasty, tooth grin. "We know who you are, witch. You will make many strong babies in our birthing caves." He turned to the other goblins and said, "Find the boy—he is worth five witches alone!"

According the Defence Against the Dark Arts Class in Harry's fourth year, Goblins were easily twice as strong physically as a typical wizard, and nearly eight times as strong as a Muggle man. They were incredibly agile, able to twist about with frightening dexterity. They were much, much slower than witch-born in a straight run, but could run non-stop for days. In other words, in the tight confines of a single room, they were very dangerous enemies. They were also hyper sensitive to light.

As he began to cast, Harry felt a brief wave of dizziness overtake him as actions and consequences began to play out before his eyes with such clarity it seemed as if he were living the same moment over and over again. It continued until he saw a course that resulted in something other than his death. So, course determined, Harry stuck his wand out from under his cloak even as he shouted "_Lumos Maxima_!"

With a male wand that not only channelled his magic, but augmented it through generations of previous wizards' magic, the spell was like a small white sun exploding in the store. The goblins did not scream—that was far too human a response. Rather, they growled, barked and shouted in rage and pain. The moment he cast the charm, Harry ducked and rolled to a different spot, emerging just in time to see five crossbow bolts bury themselves in the wood behind where he stood a second before.

Harry responded not with a stunner, but a powerful bludgeoning hex. As strong as the creatures were, being hit in the head with the equivalent of an anvil was more than enough to put one of them down. He saw two more goblins fall under Tonks' and Sybil's similar magic. Still, that left three more goblins counting Fingersnapper.

Harry desperately cast a shield, but again knew for a certainty that it would not hold against the enchanted blade swinging for his head. In desperation, Harry Apparated across the room. The anti-apparition jinx over the alley controlled exiting and arriving apparitions, but within the jinxed area itself, it did nothing. Harry appeared on the far side of the room just in time to see the goblin's sword cut an eight-inch square support post in one swipe, right before Sybil put him down with another bludgeoner. The other two goblins were also down.

"That was some fast thinking, Harry," Tonks said.

"Thanks. Think we should take their swords?"

"NO!" Tonks said, perhaps more urgently than strictly necessary. "I mean, no. We haven't killed anyone, and we are only taking what is yours. If we take a goblin weapon, that means we're actually stealing from them. They won't just conspire with the ministry, they'll declare us enemies. _Revelio tracking charms_."

The first trunk of gold lit up under her revealing charm; Harry repeated the charm on the others, until between them they confirmed almost every single coin in their trunks had a tracking charm on it. "Bugger, bad as I thought," Tonks muttered. "I hate it when I'm right."

"Good thing it doesn't happen often," Sybil said.

"Bitch," Tonks snapped.

"Whore."

"I wish. I'd almost be willing to pay for a good man," Tonks muttered. She looked back at the amused Harry and blushed. "Shush, you."

"What do we do?" Harry asked.

"Run like hell and get behind really strong wards," Sybil said. "But first…_Obliviate!_" She cast the memory charm on the first goblin, while Tonks took the second. Harry didn't know the charm and neither witch offered to teach him, but between them they finished off the remaining goblins quickly. When they were done, the three of them ran up the stairs to find Arabella waiting not with a crossbow, but with a Muggle shotgun.

"It got noisy down there," Arabella said nervously. "Tonks was right, then?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "But we got the gold. I don't think we can come back here, though."

"A shame, I liked this store," Arabella said sadly. "Oh well, we have more stores to choose from." The squib woman led them to the back door and the rickety steel fire escape that jutted out at an impossible distance from the back of the building across the back alley that bordered the enchanted space and the Muggle car park. When they were out, Arabella activated the store wards using a runestone pad in the frame of the back door. They heard angry shouts from below as the wards forcibly shunted the six goblins from the store. With the building thoroughly locked down, the three scrambled across the fire escape.

They paused only long enough for Tonks to remove Harry's glamour and to take off their obviously magical robes to reveal the Muggle-style trousers for Harry, and Sybil, a light and airy dress for Arabella, and a casual skirt and blouse for Tonks underneath. When they were Muggle-ready, they continued across the escape; the powerful alley wards tingled against Harry's skin as they emerged onto the Muggle side.

The three walked down the stairs to the narrow, diamond-shaped car park that bordered that side of Diagon Alley. To the casual observer, it appeared that they emerged from another row of businesses that framed the car park, though no one would be able to find what business it was. Tonks surreptitiously cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on them, took Arabella's arm while winking at Harry, and a second later the two women disappeared with a pop.

"You okay?" Sybil asked when they were alone.

The adrenaline was starting to drain away, leaving Harry tired and with a headache. "I was having some precognitions back there again."

Sybil nodded. "You seemed to anticipate things better than should have been possible," she admitted. "This is good. We can't afford to lose you. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah."

The two Aethers side-step apparated not to Godric's Hollow, but instead to the decrepit home of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. The two appeared next to Tonks and Arabella in a corner of a small park draped in Notice-Me-Not and Muggle Repelling charms.

Across the narrow street stood the grim London residence of the Black family. Not wanting to give their enemies any more time to find them than necessary, the four of them ran across the street in broad daylight regardless of the Muggle cars and the steady, thin stream of people moving in and out of the park, and reached the front door.

Only when they were inside did Harry allow himself a breath of relief. The house sat largely empty at the moment and served as much as a sanctuary to those Order members who were attacked at the end of the school year as it did a headquarters. Amelia Bones lived there alone, since her niece was now bonded with Neville and staying with him behind the powerful Longbottom family wards. Sybil and Arabella both also lived at the house, though that was not a surprise, given their pairing. Remus Lupin simply had nowhere else to go.

Harry and Sybil followed Tonks and Arabella into the long, narrow dining room where they found Amelia with Remus pouring over a large, detailed map of the UK spread out over the table with thumb tacks marking known locations of their allies. Both looked up and Amelia said, "Tonks, Harry, any luck?"

"Went a little wonky," Tonks confessed. "We got what we wanted. Problem is every coin is marked with a tracking charm."

Harry, though, shook his head and stared at Amelia. "No, the problem is that the Ministry is planning on giving every Muggleborn witch to Gringotts to buy their cooperation. Amelia, we have to do something!"

Amelia looked at Remus a moment before returning her attention to Harry. "We knew that was a danger, Harry. It was a poorly kept secret that one or two Muggleborn witches were abducted before McGonagall did her orientation almost every year. With the Dark Sabbat in power, it seemed clear that they would all be in danger."

Harry swallowed bile. "So what are we doing about it?"

"We're working on it," Remus said.

"But…"

"Harry," Amelia said, "I know it's hard, but you have to remember that you're not even sixteen yet. You are too politically important to waste on field operations. Let the adults handle it, while you go home and keep working on those wands of yours."

Behind Harry, Sybil shook her head. "Amelia, you're wasting a valuable resource. Harry has potential battle precognition."

Tonks blinked and said, "What's that?"

"A supposed myth," Lupin said. "It was often said that Rowena Ravenclaw was so feared as a fighter because no one could surprise her. She always knew what her opponent was going to do, and had enough expertise to avoid their attacks."

"Knowing everything Lily did for you, I believe it," Amelia said to Harry. "But you're no Rowena Ravenclaw. And again, you're too damned important to the cause to risk in the field. It was bad enough we almost lost you at Hogwarts. Now, go home and work on your money situation, or the wands, and we'll work on what we can do to help the Muggleborns with the other Covens as allies."

Grumbling, Harry turned and walked out of the kitchen of the home that technically he owned with his gold still shrunken in his pockets. He felt more than saw Trelawney and Arabella follow him back into the reception room with the large fireplace.

"Harry," Sybil said, "she means well."

"She's acting like I'm nothing but a baby. After all I've been through, for her to act like that…"

"Means that she's a responsible adult who does not believe children should have to fight wars," Arabella said. "Harry, don't make her the villain, here. Frankly, I agree with her that children shouldn't have to fight. But that said…"

"You're already a part of the fight," Sybil finished. "Go home and take a look at those coins. Goblin magic is tactile—who knows, you might figure out a way to undo the charms yourself. We both know Amelia will ask Bill Weasley to do it for you, and I would imagine you don't want to be around Weasleys at the moment."

Harry had to admit Sybil was right. At the end of the year before last, in a fit of jealous pique, Ginny Weasley told her mum that Hermione and Justine, two Muggleborn witches, had offered to bond with Harry. Molly Weasley, being a young and naïve dame, took the news to the Sabbat, who promptly ordered both girls killed. The chain of events led first to Justine losing her father, and then at the close of the year, to her losing her very life. And though she did not speak of it, Harry knew Hermione blamed almost all of it on Ginny Weasley.

"You're right. You'll stay here?"

"For now," Sybil said. "Go home, Harry. And don't worry. one of us will keep you in the loop, regardless of what Amelia says."

He smiled at the two women before disapparating back to Godric's Hollow. He arrived in an empty reception room; no one acknowledged his return, and somehow he didn't expect them to. His 'family' was as broken now as it was when he was with the Dursleys.

Instead, he took his gold down to his mum's wand lab, figuring he might be able to work long enough to make himself forget for a while all the bad things happening in the world around him.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	3. What It Means To Be A Man

A/N: Chap 2 review responses, such as they are, are available as usual in my forums. Thank you for reading.

* * *

**Chapter Three: What It Means to be a Man**

"Draco?"

Draco Malfoy blinked his eyes and roused himself from his thoughts to see his wife of the past few months staring intently at him; how he wished the sight did not sicken him. "What?" he asked, fighting to be civil. She was destined to be the next Malfoy Dame, after all. He knew from personal experience just how much a Dame could make an Elder's life miserable.

"We were just wondering if you were listening to us. Blaise said the Lloyd Coven was killed last night ... The whole coven!"

Malfoy glanced at Blaise—a beautiful girl with milk-chocolate skin and a distant, disinterested gleam in her eyes. Pansy was already talking about adding Blaise as a second wife, completely oblivious to the way Blaise's mum ascended from a third wife to the sole one of her current spouse, just as she had with her previous husband. Pansy would be signing her own death warrant if she brought such a girl into their marriage and likely Draco's too.

_On second thought, perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea. _

"I heard they're even thinking about elevating my old coven to one of the major ones," Pansy said. "Wouldn't that be incredible? Parkinson and Malfoy Covens united by marriage and politics! What a powerful block we'd be!"

Malfoy forced a smile before he turned to look back out the window of the train at the Muggles of London. He wondered what they saw—probably just another of their own trains, rather than the distinctive crimson of the Hogwarts Express. He pondered briefly what he was going to do over the summer. As a married wizard with O.W.L.s, he was now legally an adult. He prayed he could take a true vacation this year, perhaps to the Virgin Islands, or Brazil. He wanted very much to go alone so that he could play with the Muggles, though he knew he would have to take Pansy with him. On the other hand, she certainly had no problems with him playing with Astoria Greengrass before Potter took her to spouse. Perhaps…

"We're here!" Pansy gushed. The others in the cabin didn't say anything. In fact, the ride back had been unusually quiet. Oh, for the first few minutes of the ride everyone talked about how much better the castle was going to be next year with Dumbledore gone, but after a few minutes everyone fell quiet. Millicent pulled out a book and started reading, while the others passed the time in their own ways.

It seemed, to Draco at least, that once his friends spoke the words, they all began to wonder if things really would be better without Dumbledore.

When the train finally came to a stop, the Slytherin students stood to gather their belongings. He grabbed his trunk and waited for Pansy to grab her own before leading the way out of their carriage and onto the platform. He was not surprised to see Hit Witches—some of the same who were at Hogwarts just yesterday during the culling of the school—standing in a line around the entrance to the Muggle portion of the station.

Draco smiled grimly as he watched the Hit Witches interrogate the Muggleborn students as they tried to leave. "Name and address," one of the uglier Hit Witches demanded of a pathetic Hufflepuff first year. The little girl in pigtails began to cry, and when one of the older Hufflepuffs tried to intercede, the older girl received a back-handed slap that sent her sprawling.

"Ministry orders!" another Hit Witch said. "All Muggleborn students are to check in here and provide their name and address. Any students failing to do so will be ineligible to return to school next year!"

Draco didn't bother to watch the sheep queue up patiently for the slaughter. Instead, he began to look for his mother. He was surprised, though, to see both his mother and father waiting for him. He led the way through the wary, unusually quiet crowd, until he reached them.

"Draco," Lucius Malfoy said with his aristocratic drawl.

Draco nodded greetings to his father. Behind him, Pansy curtsied. "Elder Malfoy," she said.

"Pansy," Lucius said with a brief nod.

Draco, having grown up with the man, detected a trace of distaste which he himself shared. Both Malfoy men had hoped for a pairing with the late, lamented Daphne Greengrass, but the Dames demanded Pansy instead because of their schemes to use Daphne against Potter. History showed what a bad move that turned out to be.

"Leave your trunks for our elves. We are expected," Lucius said.

Draco did as he was told, as did Pansy. The two stepped to Draco's parents, father to son, mother to daughter in law, and the four disappeared with the pops of Disapparition. They reappeared in the reception room of Malfoy Manor, the only place that even they could Apparate from or to given the intense blood wards that protected the spacious, Tudor-style mansion.

"Pansy, dear, come with me and I'll show you where you and Draco will be staying," Narcissa said with that calm, soothing voice that even Draco could never truly interpret. Pansy of course went since she knew that in the house of the Malfoys, even a second wife far outranked her, especially one who was the mother of her husband.

"Thank you, Madame Black," she said with her best smile, and followed the elegant beauty out of the room. When they were gone, Lucius said, "My son, it is time for you to become a man. Do you understand?"

Draco looked back at his father and was surprised by the intense, serious expression on his face. He noticed how the elder Malfoy unconsciously gripped his right forearm, and with a clenching of his heart in his chest, he nodded that he did indeed understand.

Lucius put his hand to Draco's neck and guided him out of the reception room and into the solarium before they reached the larger ball room. Draco remembered many holidays spent scampering around the edges of the adults, sneaking treats for Crabbe or Teddy Nott.

They continued into the narrow hall that lined the ground floor of the guest wing until they came to what had once been the Malfoy family armoury. The spacious room had been plastered a century past by Lucius's father, with an assortment of ancient tapestries on the walls. The magical tapestries, which predated the more modern magical portrait techniques by several centuries, showed armies of men in armour with swords and battle wands fighting back the fierce goblin hordes, which were trying to carry off a group of witches nearby. Both men and monsters were woven in a heavily stylized fashion and showing in profile. However, such was the artistry and skill in the tapestries that enchanted arrows and spells still flew through the sky, and the two forces stilled clashed in eerie silence, caught in a scene of war a thousand years old.

Against the far wall, framed by another tapestry heralding the heroism of the first Malfoys in England, sat a simple plush chair, stark and anachronistic with its clean, modern lines and dull blue colour. While ugly, it did appear to be comfortable for the figure seated upon it. Against either wall stood a line of wizards, all in deep black robes. It was the largest collection of wizards Draco had ever seen outside the few times his father dragged him to the Wizengamot.

What truly caught his attention, though, was the sight of his godfather and favourite professor fighting for his life in the centre of the open floor against a black-clad woman with long, lanky brown hair and veiled grey eyes. She moved like a feline, smooth, graceful and efficient, while Snape moved like a wolf—powerful and coiled to spring.

However, Snape was also a twice-bonded wizard. For all his obvious skill at duelling, his curses could not pierce her shield, while her own stunners came perilously close to doing just that to his. In fact, just as Draco entered, the woman did just that. The worst thing about it was that Snape positioned himself perfectly for a counter-curse that would have most assuredly ended the fight—Draco could tell the woman put herself out of position to take the shot.

But her curse was powerful enough to break Snape's shield and sent him stumbling back against the line of silent watchers. "Enough. Antonia, he almost had you."

"Almost," Antonia Dolohov said with a bow to her master. She was one of the few female Death Eaters—Draco only knew her by name, since she was in Azkaban as far as he knew. He had no idea when she was released, if in fact Voldemort simply didn't break her out.

Snape picked himself up and strode to the centre of the room. Lucius moved Draco to one side as two more Death Eaters walked in shoving Snape's wives before them. Professors Hooch and Sinistra still wore their school robes, while Snape's daughter with Sinistra was clad in a little pink dress and clasped desperately to Sinistra's shoulder. Draco had actually baby-sat the girl occasionally for his godfather during the school year.

"It is a shame that it comes to this, Severus," Voldemort said. His voice had an odd, deep echo, as if he were actually speaking from somewhere within the body of Barty Crouch Jr. He smiled as he spoke, as if discussing a particularly good tea or broom. "But those who bear my mark must be strong, and though Antonia is among the strongest of witches, she is still a witch. She should never have been able to collapse your shield. The situation is quite simple in the end. Your magic is bonded too much to make you of any use to me other than as a potion brewer, and I have plenty of those. So, pick one."

Draco's stomach clenched and he had a sudden urge to be sick when he realized what was being asked of his godfather. The impact on Snape was even more telling. He jerked as if struck, and then lowered his head before Voldemort and clenched his fists.

Finally, Rolanda Hooch stepped forward. "Enough of this! We all know I'm the one. I can't have children, and I was only bonded with him as punishment. Just get it over, you bastard."

Voldemort clapped his hands. "Oh, how very brave, my dear! Very brave. Wouldn't you say so, Severus?"

"Rolanda…" Snape began.

"I might by a bitch at times," Hooch said, "but I will never stand by and watch a young mother die. Don't even pretend to ask me to, or pretend you would prefer me over her. She's the mother of your child."

Voldemort stood, and with a flourish of his wand struck Rolanda Hooch down with a single killing curse. It happened so fast it made Draco jump in surprise. The Dark Lord turned to a stunned Severus Snape and a quietly weeping Aurora Sinistra who clutched their mewling baby to her chest. "I gave her a quick, merciful death for you, Severus; for your service to me. But remember, while I promise much, I require much as well. If the reduction in bonds is not sufficient, I will eliminate your bonds altogether."

Snape glanced at Sinistra with a blank face before bowing. "Thank you for your mercy, Master."

"Return to Hogwarts. You are to be the headmaster this coming year, regardless of what else you might hear to the contrary."

"Thank you, Master."

Snape bowed from the waist, grabbed the sobbing Sinistra and his daughter, and walked quickly from the room. When they were gone, those alien black eyes latched onto him. "Ahh," Voldemort said, "Draco. Come here, boy."

Draco's palms were sweaty and his knees buckled, but he managed to walk with a relatively straight back to stand before the Dark Lord, with his father a step behind.

"Raise your shield, boy," Antonia Dolohov said from the left of the Dark Lord.

Draco did as he was told just in time to accept a powerful cutting curse that might have taken off his whole arm. He maintained the shield as more curses came, until he felt perspiration coating his body and his magic straining.

"Enough, Antonia," Voldemort said. "Remember, if nothing else, he is still young." The dark lord looked back to Draco and nodded. "I'm pleased to see you still have sufficient magic to shield against a witch, Draco. You see, your family has me at a quandary. As I told dear Severus, those who bear my mark must be powerful, but your father is twice bonded. His own shield would surely have failed against Antonia's assault. However, both he and his wives are…valuable to my cause. Elezeta was instrumental in my rebirth, and your own mother Narcissa has been immensely welcoming of me. I would hate to have to cull either of them to produce a Malfoy fighter. But, if the Malfoy coven can give me another fighter in Lucius' stead, I would have no reason to cull either."

Draco looked back at his father, whose face was carefully blank, before he dropped to his knees. "I will gladly serve, Master," he said, terrified at the idea of the Dark Lord killing his mother. Professor Hooch lay unmoving on the ground a few feet away where she fell. Her empty eyes seemed to stare at him accusingly, as if somehow her death were his fault.

"Yes, you will," Voldemort said with a smile. "Because if you do not…well, one way or the other, a Malfoy will take their place among my ranks. Pull back your sleeve, Draco Malfoy. It is time to become a man."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

A short, odd-looking man who might have been a dwarf if not for the way he moved appeared with a gentle pop in the middle of a back garden on a slightly overcast, muggy morning on the twenty-fourth day of June.

The garden itself was long and narrow, lined in privacy fences twice as tall as the man himself. It was attached to the back of one of ten narrow, three level-homes that lined the street. The windows were decorated with flower pops, and in one window a faded drawing of a family of two parents and a smiling little girl, judging by the rudely drawn dress.

Filius Flitwick smiled sadly at the picture, then looked about the garden some more. He noticed that the grass seemed longer than it should be, given the amount of care the trimmed shrubberies seemed to have enjoyed not too long ago. There were other signs of very recent neglect as well—an empty bird feeder; an overturned patio chair.

Filius approached the door with his wand out. He did not bother to knock as he tapped the door knob. The door swung open, and the moment it did, Filius knew he was too late. Nonetheless, he braved the horrid smell of rotting meat and stepped into the home of Arethea Mackovitz, who was due to start her seventh year at Hogwarts the coming September.

He found the bodies in the sitting room. Being a survivor of the last conflict against Voldemort, he could count the number of horrors committed on Mr and Mrs Mackovitz just from the effects to their faces. The carpet had large, dried stains of spilled blood, and more splatters covered many of the walls.

He spent the next hour searching the house for Arethea, but there was no sign of her. As he came back down the stairs to the horrific scene of brutality, the morning light had shifted onto a section of the wall trim he did not notice before. In so doing, he saw tiny marks. With a grunt he climbed down to his hands and knees and leaned forward until his nose almost touched the trim.

Arethea had left him a message. In thin letters drawn in blood, she'd written, "_They found me. Morgana help me_."

"Oh dear Thea," Filius whispered. A tear came to his eye, but was quickly lost in his bristly beard. "Oh my dear child, I failed you. I waited too long. Too long. But…but this means…"

The short but powerful man fumbled for an ancient scroll that he pulled from the expanded pockets of his waist coat and ran to the bare dining table of the Mackovitz family. He unrolled the scroll, which though it did not appear to be so long, held the names of a thousand years of students, until he found the next Muggleborn Ravenclaw on the list. "Terri Boot," he said. "I must go now!"

The Boot family lived in Chesterfield in a nice neighbourhood that abutted an open football field, and beyond that a small pond. On the surface, it appeared to be an idyllic place for any child to grow up, even a witch-born child.

Filius appeared in the Boot family's back garden. Unlike Pomona or Severus, Filius always made a point of visiting his Muggleborn students after their first summer at Hogwarts just to have a chat with the parents and make sure everything was going well. As a result, he knew where all of his students lived even without the scroll. However, he was getting older and did not mind having the scroll there to remind him.

As happened with the Mackovitz family, Filius knew almost immediately that something was wrong. This time it wasn't an unkempt garden. The Boot family obviously took great pride in the back garden he saw. No, the problem was the ozone in the air, and the Muggle repelling wards on the house.

"_Homenum Revelio_," Filius whispered just outside the back door. The spell created a map before his eyes, and in that map he could see figures inside the house. Two of them were dull—Muggles. The other three were magical. All were still alive.

With a shaky sigh, Filius cast his best disillusionment charm on himself. Considering he was a charms master, it was a better charm than most. He then cast silencing charms on both himself and the door before he opened it and slipped inside.

The moment he was inside the house, he heard the sounds of screams and cries for help and mercy. Emerging from the kitchen into the larger living area, he blinked and stared at the scene of torture he stumbled into.

Terri Boot's parents were naked and spread-eagled against the wall of their own living room. Thus arrayed, Filius could see the curse marks all over their poor bodies. Terri Boot herself sat in the middle of the floor wrapped in conjured ropes. Her nose was bleeding and her eyes were red and swollen with tears. She was the one crying out for the two Hit Witches to stop; her parents were the ones screaming in pain.

"Then just tell us where the other Mudbloods are, dearie, and we'll be on our way," one of the Hit Witches said.

Filius' fear began to burn away before a deep seated rage. The Hit Witch was one of his Ravenclaws! Muriel Davidson, Class of '78.

But his anger also burned with pride when young Terri, tortured, beaten and faced with the horrid torture of her own parents, said, "Never! Harry will get you all, just you wait!"

"Oh, will he now?" Muriel said. She pointed her wand at Terri's mum, whose name was Shirley if Filius remembered correctly. "_Crucio!"_

As Shirley Boot began to scream, Filius burst into motion. The metal spike he conjured appeared with a pop and a whistle of speed before it ripped through the chest of the witch behind Muriel like a foot-long bullet. The woman flew backwards with the kinetic shock of the blow, which distracted Muriel long enough for Filius to cast a gravity charm on her.

Suddenly Muriel's legs snapped as her body was crushed to the ground by a gravity field well beyond anything the body was meant for. She struggled desperately to breathe, but the gravity crushed her lungs. "I am so disappointed in you," Filius said as he let his charm fall. "For you to do something like this…you shame your house, Muriel Davidson."

He left her there, gasping for breath as her lungs collapsed, and turned his attention to Shirley and Daniel Boot. It took only a moment to release the two from the charms holding them against the wall and then levitate them to the floor of the house. He then unbound Terri who crawled to her unconscious parents.

"Professor," Terri said as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing what little I can," Flitwick said simply. "When did they come?"

"This morning," she said. "They were trying to get us all to give our addresses at King's Cross, but I overheard some of the Slytherins talking about how the new Ministry was going to be culling out the trash over the summer and warned everyone not to give out their real addresses."

"Oh, well done, Miss Boot," Filius said. "Well done indeed."

He then turned what little medical knowledge he had to her parents. "I'm afraid we can do very little for them. Magical potions are poisonous to Muggles. However, magic itself does not linger in them either. The _Cruciatus_ is actually much worse for you than for your parents."

Terri held up a shaking hand and said, "I know. But what can we do? More will come."

Filius leaned over and gently patted Daniel Boot's cheek until the man gasped. "What…wha…Professor Flitwick?"

"Filius, please. I'm afraid I'm no longer a professor. Mr Boot, do you know what has happened today?"

He frowned. "I know bloody well what happened. You damned freaks attacked us!"

"Dad, please…" Terri said.

Daniel Boot sat up and rubbed his blooded face in his hands. "Terri, we love you, you have to know that. But this whole thing is just…it's evil. You're all evil."

"Not all of us," Filius pointed out.

"Enough so it doesn't matter," Daniel responded. "All of you witch-born are just evil. Terri would rather watch us get tortured than just tell those women what they wanted!"

"Terri held her tongue because she knew they were going to do the same thing to her friends and their parents," Filius said, not unkindly. "They were not here just for information, Mr Boot. They came to kill you and then take her and sell her into slavery."

"Like I said, evil," Daniel Boot sneered.

"Dad!" Terri said.

"I'm sorry, Terri," he said. "After what happened to the Fletchleys and Grangers, your mum and I just can't…this is too much. It's just too much."

"Very well, it's decided," Filius said. "Miss Boot, fetch your things. Be quick. You're coming with me, this instant. Mr Boot, I'm terribly sorry for what has happened to you. For your own safety and the safety of your wife, I strongly recommend you leave your home and do not return."

"I figured that part out, thanks," Daniel snapped bitterly. He turned to his wife while Filius stepped back to the now dead former student of his. He cancelled his spell, took her wand and vanished the body. A moment later he did the same thing to the first Hit Witch he killed. Moments later Terri returned with her trunk in tow and her wand in hand. She wore jeans and a jumper with a pair of sturdy black boots.

"Do not use any magic, Ms Boot," Filius warned her.

"I know, the trace," she said bitterly. She looked down at her parents as her mother began to wake, but did not cry. Her face was completely still and emotionless, but behind her a family portrait cracked with accidental magic.

"Come, Miss Boot," Filius said quickly. She walked to his side; after a long, blank look at her parents she turned and nodded to him that she was ready. She did not look back again and disappeared with a soft pop half a second later.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Neville Longbottom knocked on the door to the basement of Potter Cottage as Susan Bones and Hannah Longbottom helped Luna with dinner on the ground floor above. He was half-expecting the door to remain locked and felt conflicted when it clicked open instead. He'd only been down there once, but it felt to the traditionalist wizard as if he were stepping into a holy place. He knew his Gran made wands for the Croaker Coven, such as it was, but the wand room was specifically warded to prevent any wizard from entering.

In fact, from what Neville knew, any witch being taught wand craft was first required to make an Unbreakable Vow not to ever divulge any of what they knew except to their selected female heirs. For Harry to know how to make a wand seemed somehow as silly as a man giving birth. It just _felt_ wrong.

Still, there Harry was, hunched over one of the many cabinets that lined the room. This time, though, he was not working on a wand. Rather, he had a handful of galleons on the counter top and was flicking his fingers over the coins, as if trying to tickle them.

"Hey, Nev," he said absently without looking away. "Is it dinner time?"

"No, I just thought I'd come down and see if you were alive."

"With the women in his house, it'd almost be a blessing if I weren't," Harry muttered darkly. "How are you?"

"Okay, I guess," Neville said. "Gran and Uncle Algie have been hosting Amelia Bones and the light covens for the past week in meetings. Algie's convinced that if we can get enough light covens we can form our own Sabbat and petition the ICW to overthrow the Dark Sabbat without a curse fired."

"It won't change anything," Harry said. "Even if they put everything back the way it was, it was broken to begin with."

"Yeah," Neville said, not sure what else to say. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Taking the goblin tracking charms off this coin," Harry said. "In fact, I think…"

The coin suddenly popped with what looked like a burst of static. He held it up with a satisfied nod and then flipped it to Neville, who caught it. "What?"

"It has no magic on it at all anymore," Harry said. "It was something Sybil told me this morning. She said goblin magic was tactile. That's why they used enchanted weapons but no wands. Since I'm a tactile Aether, I really took a look at these coins for the first time. It took me about five hours to figure out how to remove the tracking charm, but then I asked myself, why stop there? The coins were charmed to prevent wizards from melting them down for the gold and selling it directly to the Muggles. But I can _see_ the charms, Nev. And if I can see them, I can pluck them apart, just like I did with the charms and compulsions they put over Tori to try and keep me from choosing her."

"Wow, Harry, that's amazing," Neville said. And it really was, both amazing and terrifying. "You better not tell anyone, though. I mean, the goblins would declare another war if they found out."

Harry waved the possibility off. "They already have. Know what the goblins told me this morning before they tried to kill me, Nev? They're accepting bribes from the Dark Sabbat. Know how you bribe a race that controls all the gold in England? You bribe them with girls; with Muggleborn witches, Nev."

Harry slammed his fist down on the cabinet in frustration, growling in rage. "And Amelia just says, 'Go home, Harry. You're just a kid, Harry. Let the grown-ups handle everything, Harry.' As if that's worked for us so far." He stopped and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if to push out whatever thoughts ran wildly through his mind. "Worst part is I keep having these stupid dreams. There's this little girl, and Amelia at a chess table. It's… I don't know what it means. Sometimes I hate her, and other times I'm terrified of losing her too."

Neville stood still and quiet, watching his friend of the past five years rant. It was refreshing, in a way. Harry had a habit of just taking things and bottling them up inside. He heard occasionally of Harry blowing up and letting off steam, but it was rare. Normally he just bottled everything up and just kept taking it. Now, it seemed as if the bottle was filled to the brim and he couldn't hold it in any more.

"So what do you want to do?"

The question shut Harry up faster than Neville would have believed. The young man sat up and stared hard at the shelf of wand blanks in front of him. "I have something for you, Nev, if you want it. But you've got to keep it as secret as long you can."

"What do you mean?"

Harry reached up to one of the shelves and removed a wand—one a good two inches longer than what Neville currently used. "What is that?" Neville asked.

"Cherry wood and unicorn hair," Harry said. "Normally dragon heart string is better for a Gryffindor wizard, but you had a touch of Hufflepuff in your core, so I think it will work better for you."

"I don't understand…"

"It's a male wand, Nev. Remember when I asked for that carton of piss from you that made you think I was sodding nuts? That's why. I used it to imbibe the wand blank for you. The wand will not limit your power, and after you use it for a month or two it will change how your bonds work too. You'll go back to your pre-bonding power levels."

Neville stared at the wand in fascination. It didn't _look_ any different than any other wand. "What do you mean?"

"It means that the bonds will stop reducing your power—the magic flow will become neutral. You'll be just as powerful as you were before you bonded."

"But that's…that's…"

"The way it used to be, before a dark witch convinced the world to use female wands exclusively fifteen hundred years ago," Harry said. "You know I recovered my memories from America, right? All the WestCon wizards use male wands. It's why Garrick Ollivander is labelled as an apostate and the ICW has a complete embargo against them—they're trying to keep the secret from getting out. I guess I'm an apostate too, now."

Neville stood frozen in place as he stared at the wand. Somehow, he knew that the wand Harry was about to hand over could be his death. Like most wizards, he never questioned wandlore until when he and Harry started potions, and Harry pointed out that his first wand was so poorly fitted it was causing him to bleed magic through his fingers.

His current wand was better, but only just. But though he knew nothing about wands, he knew what 'apostate' meant. It was the ultimate punishment—an excommunication from the protections of all magical ministries and an automatic death sentence that could be carried out by anyone without fear of reprisal.

"Why me, Harry?"

Harry stood and finally turned to look intently at Neville. As if the thought surprised even him, he said: "You're the first real friend I've ever had, Nev. Remember that summer I got to come over and visit, before fourth year? That was the best summer I've ever had. And last year, when Luna, Hermione and I got in to Hogwarts, I found you and Hannah sitting in the common room of the married wing waiting for me. You admitted you got married just so I could have a friend as a roommate. That was…that was the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me, Nev. I really think you're my best friend. And I also think things are going to get really, really bad from now on. I'm going to need you. And I'm going to need you to be powerful."

Neville slipped his old wand into his pocket and took the longer wand Harry offered. The moment his fingers touched it, he felt a nearly bone-deep tingle. Red sparks began to shoot from the tip of it like a Roman candle and every hair on his body stood on end. "Wow," he breathed.

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But I'm going to have to keep these a secret, aren't I?"

"Yeah, 'fraid so. I'm pretty sure Dame Augusta would kill us both if she found out." Harry frowned. "And no, I'm not joking. They would kill us if they found out. I think she'd feel she has to. So keep it between us."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Seven young people gathered around the table, pretending to be adults more by necessity than desire. Harry sat at one end of the table and Neville sat at another because those were the traditional seats for wizards, according to Luna and Hannah. Hannah and Susan sat on Neville's right, while Luna, Hermione and Tori sat on Harry's right. The table did not groan under the weight of the food, but there was at least enough to ensure no one would go hungry because of the casserole the Longbottoms brought.

"I know of a gold buyer in Newport," Hermione said after her second glass of wine. The wine seemed to help her talk as did the prospect of some money to fund their continuing struggles to repair Potter Cottage. "It'll be nice to actually be able to buy groceries again."

"Can we get some ice cream?" Tori asked with bright eyes. "It's been ages!"

"Yes, we can get some ice cream," Luna said tiredly. While none of them were particularly happy, the empty wine bottles from the Potter's aged wine rack already crowded the table, with a fourth well on the way to joining them, so that they did not care quite as much.

And it was at that point that the glowing silver jackalope jumped into their home and hovered over the table. "Mr Potter, Filius Flitwick would like a word with you at your earliest convenience," the hybrid creature said in Flitwick's squeaky, high voice. "Seeing as I was unable to find you, I've chosen to wait at your parent's gravestone. Miss Terri Boot is with me. Thank you."

Harry was already on his feet moving. "It could be a trap!" Hermione called.

"I know. That's why I'm getting my cloak!"

He came back down stairs to see Neville, Susan and Hermione standing by to join him. Susan, knowing the _disillusionment_ charm better than the others, had her wand over Hermione's head. "Stay in the street," Harry warned them. "Just in case."

He then disappeared with a silent _swoosh_ of a side-step Apparition, while Susan finished charming her husband and friend invisible.

Harry appeared a few feet behind the bench that faced the Potter graves. He saw Filius Flitwick staring down not at Lily's grave, but at Justine's. Behind him, Terri had collapsed into the grass in the narrow path between graves and was holding her face in her hands.

With a look around them one last time, he removed his cloak. "Professor," he called. "When you said my name in class for the first time, what happened?"

Filius straightened to his still not very considerable height, and without turning around, he said, "I do believe I tumbled off a stack of books. It's not the best question to ask, really, but sadly we never really got to know each other out of class."

"Harry, what happened to Justine?" Terri said her voice thick with tears. "How can she be here?"

Hermione appeared, having ended the charm on her, and rushed to Terri's side. Harry watched as the two young women cried in each other's arms. Flitwick, meanwhile, stepped closer. "Tell me, Mr Potter, what happened to Miss Finch-Fletchley?"

"The Dark Sabbat gave her a poison," Harry said. It surprised him that he could speak of it. "I married her shortly before she died. We'd always intended her to by my fourth."

Flitwick bowed his head. "It seems I've been even more unsuccessful than I feared. I am on a mission, Mr Potter, and I'm afraid that I am going to need your help. Is there somewhere safe we can talk?"

"Yeah, I know just the place."

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	4. The Goblin Who Wasn't

A/N: Review Responses for Chap 3 in my forums as usually. Please note the "snow" scene was correct for Chap 3. Thanks for those who caught it.

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Goblin Who Wasn't**

"Very nice work," Flitwick said when he read the secret of Grimmauld place and the house appeared. "Very well done. Who cast the charm? Surely it wasn't Albus."

"Professor Dumbledore cast the first one; it was Amelia Bones who recast it after he died. She recast the one on my parent's house too. She said it was easier to recast and change secret keepers than cast a new one from scratch."

Harry and Luna had apparated with Flitwick and Terri to the park across from the headquarters of the Order because the two newcomers were not keyed into the secure Floo. Once the two read the secret, they went inside to find Hermione waiting for them with Sybil. Neville and his family returned to Longbottom Manor.

"Sybil Trelawney!" Filius declared happily. "I so hoped you had escaped. Albus warned me they would go after you."

"They did," the former Divination teacher said. "Hagrid managed to save me. He's still in the forest somewhere. Hermione was telling me a little about what you've been up to. Come on, have a seat in the kitchen. We have tea on the stove."

"Where's Amelia?" Harry asked.

"She's meeting with one of the dark-allied covens in secret," she said. "No need to tell you how dangerous that is. Come, have a seat."

They walked into the kitchen to find hot tea and a tray of biscuits waiting for them. Filius settled down with a sigh in the chair. "It has been an exceedingly long day. As to what I've been doing…" The small man removed a large scroll from the obviously charmed pocket of his waist coat and placed it on the table.

Sybil stared. "Filius, is that the…?"

"Yes. This is indeed the student scroll of Hogwarts. It is so ancient and powerful there is great doubt whether anyone could actually recreate it to this day. It lists every magical child in England, even those who have not yet started at Hogwarts. Moreover, it lists how to find them."

"The Muggleborns," Harry said.

"Indeed," Flitwick said. "Indeed! Albus feared that if the Ministry got a hold of this scroll, they would use it to hunt down the Muggleborns and either kill them, or worse."

"That's why Hit Witches were demanding student addresses at King's Cross," Terri Boot said softly. She ignored the biscuit and cradled the tea with both hands. Hermione sat with her arm across the girl's shoulders.

"It gets even worse," Hermione said darkly. "Harry heard a goblin say the Ministry was paying for Gringotts' cooperation with Muggleborn witches."

Flitwick clucked his tongue in dismay. "Monstrous!"

"But Professor," Harry said, "aren't you…I mean…aren't you part goblin?"

"I am, though it is certainly not something I'm proud of," Flitwick said. "However, the fact that I came about because my father was not evil enough to be a good goblin does not justify goblins in general. Does Binns not even teach the origins of goblin kind?"

"Er, most of us slept through his classes," Harry admitted.

Hermione, though, shook her head. "He just mentioned they originated in ancient Sumer."

Flitwick snorted. "Of course he would. Few people like to discuss the origins or the continuation of goblins in the open, given how odious it is. I shall tell you, then, children. The first goblin was born to a witch named Ningikuda some six thousand years ago. She was a powerful witch, and lived alone among the reeds of a lake near the city of Bad-tibira, in what is now southern Iraq. A young, un-bonded wizard happened upon her and took her by force. To prevent him from killing her, she bonded with him during the act. Sadly, in those days it was common enough. However, she still hated him with all her heart.

"When she realized she was with child, she cursed the child with all the hate she could, using her own magic to fashion within her a monster. The child was born, and within weeks killed and ate his own father. However, Ningikuda was not immune from this monster's rage. He took her even more violently than his father did, and from that cursed union, came the first true goblins."

"I don't understand why other wizards just didn't hunt them down," Harry said.

"Mr Potter, you must remember that we are talking about events that happened in the earliest dawn of civilization," Flitwick said. "We only know because the Goblins themselves trace their ancestry to Dumuz-agash, the First One. At that time, witches and wizards were not truly aware of themselves as separate from humans. There were no wands or other foci to easily express their magic, and quite often they served as priests and priestesses to kings, if not kings themselves. Sometimes the witchborn were considered Fey themselves. There was no organized ministry of magic to hunt the goblins down. And those earliest beasts were terribly powerful, more so than witches and wizards. They waited in the dark corners of the world for wizards to kill each other over each other's witches, and when they were busy, the monsters would steal and brutally rape unsuspecting witches—and the product of those hateful unions were more goblins."

"What changed?" Terri asked.

"Wands," Harry guessed. "Wands and staffs."

"Quite right, Mr Potter! Ten points to Gryffindor!" Flitwick appeared to be regaining some of his jovial nature with the warmth of his tea. "The first staffs appeared in Egypt, actually, three thousand years ago, but even then they were merely sticks with a crystal atop them to help the wizard focus. Witches, such as they were, used potions and rituals to express their magic. That is why the ancient Greek word for witchcraft is the root for the modern word 'pharmacy'. But fifteen hundred years ago came the advent of wands—a small, easily wielded magical focus that allowed witches to fight just like wizards—the tides turned against the goblins. Rather than hide and fade away, the goblins massed into armies and attacked outright—thus the first Goblin Wars were fought."

"The Goblin Rebellions," Hermione corrected.

"Rebellions, bah! Rebellion implies wizards controlled over governed goblins. They were wars, Ms Granger. Brutal, vicious wars. The goblins gloried in blood and took no quarter—killing all wizards and ancients and abducting all witches of or below child-bearing years to increase their own numbers. Most witches would rather kill themselves than be captured by goblins in war. Quite a few classical poems and novels detailed the many historical witches who did just that. However, eventually, the magical councils of Europe finally entered into a treaty with the goblins, led at the time by Gringott the Devourer. From that treaty arose Gringotts bank, onerous banking fees, and the organized, structured raping of unwanted Muggleborn witches throughout Europe to continue the goblin race.

"Sometimes, though, one of the witches or one of the goblins coupled without malice. Sometimes, they even developed feelings for one another, and an odd type of bond formed. The offspring of such a coupling was not truly a goblin any more, but neither wholly witch-born. When this happened, both goblin and witch were immediately killed. Fortunately, in my case, my father gave his life to get my dear mum out of the goblin birthing pits. I never even knew his name. I sometimes think it would have been better if he had failed. My mother lived a terrible life even after she was freed. She was universally shunned, and barely made it to thirty before she died. If not for Albus, I'm sure I would have joined her."

Flitwick grew silent a moment before he tapped the scroll. "And that's why, when Albus brought this to me and told me to do what I could to protect the students, I vowed I would. But I took too long to get my own affairs in order. This morning I happened upon the home of Arethea Mackovitz."

"She was your sixth year prefect last year," Hermione said.

"And now she is gone and her parents are dead," Flitwick said. "I then went to the home of Miss Terri Boot here, whom all of you know. Her parents were being brutally tortured. I…well, I dealt with the Hit Witches committing such horrors and left with Miss Boot. Her parents chose to flee elsewhere. I believe we do have some little time, but it is fleeting, and I desperately need help. Oddly, Mr Potter, Miss Boot insisted that you would be the one to ask."

Beside Hermione, Terri shrugged. "I knew you at least would try," she said.

"Yeah, I'll do that," he agreed. "But we're going to need help ourselves."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Harry was happy when Fred, Angelina, Georgina and Lee arrived at their rendezvous point at a shopping centre near the Swansea city stadium that evening. Harry's offer of pizza was more than the Weasley's could resist.

He was also happy to see Ron came with them. He was less than happy, though, about Ginny and their oldest brother Bill showing up as well. Hermione, who'd come with him and Professor Flitwick, was even less than pleased when the seven Weasleys entered the pizza parlour. In fact, she was so displeased she started to stand.

"Oh Morgana, Granger, sit down," Angelina snapped.

There were few people who could get Hermione to do something she didn't want to do. Harry liked to think he could sometimes influence her if he poured enough magic into her, but the price he paid rarely made it worth the effort. But Angelina had the type of self-confidence and inherent presence that leant a certain commanding aspect to her voice. There was a reason that she would have been Quidditch Team Captain had things gone differently.

Hermione sat, eyes blazing in rage. Ginny blushed and looked suitably nervous as she sat by Bill. "What is _she_ doing here?" Hermione demanded.

"She was fighting that night in Hogwarts just like the rest of us," Angelina said. "She took a _Cruciatus curse_ to help you."

"And she's kind of the price of our admission to the game," Fred said with a wry smile.

Before they could talk, the orders Harry had already placed using money they got by selling a few galleons arrived. There were ten people between the two parties, so they pulled together two tables and Professor Flitwick cast an obscuration charm around them for privacy.

"So, we're here," Georgina said. "You tell us what you want, and we'll tell you why ickle Gin-Gin and Billy-Boy are here."

"Actually, it's because of me," Flitwick said. He quickly told the story of the scroll, and his first faulty efforts to save his students.

"Terri is staying with us for now," Harry said. "But it's not enough. We need to save the Muggleborn students on that scroll before the Hit Witches find them and give them to the goblins."

"It's hard to argue with that," Georgina said as she rubbed the back of her neck. She looked hard at Bill. "Still going to toe the coven line, Bill? You came all the way back from Normandy just for this."

The oldest Weasley looked different from his younger siblings. For one, he had a more pronounced chin and cheekbones, owing to the fact that he, like Percy and Charlene, was born of Arthur's first wife Adeena. "Look, Harry, I know you and your family aren't too keen on Ginny, but…" Bill sighed and looked down at Ginny. "Are you still planning to form a coven?"

"Kind of hard to do that, now, isn't it?" Harry said, unable to hide his bitterness. "My fourth wife died."

"And I'm sorry about that," Bill said, and for a moment Harry almost believed he was. "She died before the other covens could certify the marriage and allow you to declare, or none of this would be necessary. You know that my parents and your Madam Bones were working to try and turn a couple of the Dark Covens. We think we've turned one, but…but it's not enough, Harry. We have to be able to prove we too have a quorum of light witches before we can expect the ICW to do anything. Right now we can't even file a petition. Since we lost the Lloyd and Dumbledore covens, we just need another coven. There's no getting around it. And the only possible way to form a new coven is if you take a fourth bride."

Harry stared at Bill as if the man had grown a second head. "I buried Justine eleven days ago," he whispered. He didn't trust himself to speak any louder. "I watched that poison eat her soul and then…and then… Eleven days! It hasn't even been a fucking month, and you sit there and tell me I need to marry again? Is that what you're telling me?"

"I told you this was stupid and mean, Bill," Ginny finally said.

"Mum…"

"I told her it was stupid and mean too," Ginny said. She turned to Harry with glistening eyes. "Mum and the light dames are so desperate they wanted to try and force a bonding between us so they could get another coven, but I knew it was wrong. I'm sorry."

"Then we're done here," Bill said. His expression immediately darkened. "Come on, Weasleys."

"Er, I'm a Lee now, technically," Georgina said.

"And I'm a Johnson," Fred said.

"No you're not," Angelina said.

"I am if you go by who wears the pants in the relationship," Fred argued. Then he grinned. "Which is good, 'cause that responsibility stuff is a pain."

"I'm staying too," Ron said, speaking for the first time since they arrived. "This isn't about politics or covens, Bill. Harry and Hermione are my friends. I'm going to help them."

"And I am too," Ginny said.

Bill flushed in anger. "You're disobeying a direct order from your Dame."

"So what, is she going to eject every one of her own kids from the coven?" Georgina asked. "Don't think so. Tell Mum we all love her, but that what she wanted was stupid and mean, and we're not going to do it."

"It's on your heads, then," Bill growled. He pushed himself to his feet and walked stiffly from the room.

"Thank Merlin it was him and not Charlene," Ginny muttered.

"I know, she'd stun us all and carry us out," Fred agreed.

"Charlene's a bit of a cow," Angelina added. "She's also manlier than Bill."

"Charlene's manlier than Hagrid," Ron said.

The other Weasleys began to laugh at the thought. When they finished eating, Angelina as the oldest finally said, "Okay, Harry. What do we need to do?"

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

When Professor McGonagall and Mafalda Hopkirk arrived late in July of Colleen Creevey's eleventh year of life, she knew instinctively that things were going to change. She didn't know if the change was going to be good or bad yet, but she knew it was coming.

Like most witch-born raised in a Muggle home, Colleen and her younger sister Denise did not have what most would consider a happy childhood. Their mother was only seventeen when Colleen was born, and even before they were born, she was a school dropout with no interest in doing anything except getting pissed or high. Their father, Jason, was not much better. However, unlike Allie, Jason Creevey grew up and decided if they were going to have kids, they were going to do it right.

So, he married Allie and took a job at Brintons, one of the town's major employers which had been making carpets since the 18th Century. He cajoled, threatened and argued until Allie Creevey agreed to go to a trade school. However, eighteen months later Denise came along, and Allie simply gave up and stayed home full time.

Growing up, Colleen believed her parents loved her and her sister. But she also knew that she and her sister were freaks, and that it wasn't her mum's fault when she flinched every time she touched them. All the kids at their school said so, and all it took was a look in the mirror for Colleen to believe them. Even so, she was a fierce protector of her little sister, and had a long list of detentions and even two suspensions from school for defending her sister and herself from bullies.

But then the two women appeared at the door of their flat, and Colleen's world changed.

"Mr Creevey, Mrs Creevey," McGonagall said with a pensive expression after the discussion was done, "I know this has been quite the shock, but I feel you should also know that Mr Creevey is not the girls' father."

"What, now?" Jason said, rising to his feet with an angry flush.

Allie, though, shook her head in denial. "He has to be!" she said. "Ain't never been wit' no one but Jace!"

McGonagall and Hopkirk exchanged a brief look before the Professor said, "Mrs Creevey, it is possible that you may…not be aware of the encounters. Some less than honourable wizards have been known to lay with Muggle women and then magically remove their memories afterward. It is a reprehensible act, and universally decried at Hogwarts. It is possible that the liaisons were not consensual."

"Who was it?" Jason said in a low, angry voice as he sank back down to the chair in the dining nook where they spoke. Colleen and Denise stood just around the corner, listening to every word. Denise didn't understand, but Colleen knew exactly what they were talking about.

"I'm sorry, Mr Creevey, but we're not able to determine that." Later, of course, Colleen would find out McGonagall was lying because even if they knew, there would be nothing Jason Creevey could do against a wizard, and even trying would cost him his life. "What's important, though, is that you and your wife have done very well raising the girls under the circumstances. Both are well fed and seem reasonably happy. That is a blessed thing given how most Muggle-raised children have it. For their own protection and yours, we will classify them as Muggleborn. Now, let's talk about the upcoming orientation…"

And just like that, Colleen's life changed.

On some small level, Colleen respected the fact that her dad _tried_. He tried not to treat the girls different, but it was difficult knowing they were not his; that they were real life changelings, and that the reason he dug himself out of the pit by working twelve hours a day turned out to be a lie.

Then school started, and Jason and Allie met Sir Marcus Fletchley and his wife Allison Finch-Fletchley. They met the Grangers, a pair of successful dentists, and Leah Thomas, a single mum whose daughter came about the same way as the Creevey girls, and for a while it seemed like Colleen's parents might make it through.

But during Colleen's third year, when Harry Potter blew out his wand and Colleen's pureblood roommate Ginny ratted Hermione Granger and Justine Finch-Fletchley out to the Sabbat, things started to fall apart. Justine and Hermione's parents went into hiding and sent a final message to the Muggleborn parents to say what had happened, and that they were all in danger.

When the Creevey sisters went to King's Cross on September 1st for their fourth year, they did so by themselves on the rail, since their Mum was home with her head buried in a bottle, and their father simply gone.

Nor could Denise say the year went any better after they got to school. Perhaps the only bright spot, though, was the Firebird Army. Given that she and Demelza were the only Muggleborns in their year in Gryffindor, they never really felt they belonged. She was told in no uncertain terms by Professor Hooch that some wizards were off limits, such as Harry, or Neville Longbottom, not that Colleen cared about that just yet. She just cared that no one picked on Denise.

But when Harry started tutoring people in DADA, for the first time Colleen felt as if she were a part of something greater than herself. It wasn't just how incredible it felt to be in Harry's presence (his magic made her knees weak), it was being a part of a group that had a common ground. She suddenly discovered that Ginny wasn't really that bad, and had a wickedly funny sense of humour. She learned that Granger really _did_ know everything, and that Loony Lovegood was a lot smarter than most people figured.

She learned that she could succeed with a little effort.

Unfortunately, when the year ended, she also learned that the Magical World could be a truly terrible place. She woke up to the sound of a scream from the common room and rushed down in her pyjamas to find much of Gryffindor House gathered around a pale, distraught McGonagall. With only a few soft pushes, she made her way to Denise's side and listened in shock as her head of house—the same woman who casually dropped the bomb that destroyed her family—tearfully recounted the death of Albus Dumbledore and the flight not just of Harry Potter, but several students, including Ginny Weasley and her brother Ron.

"All students are to board the train immediately," McGonagall told them all. "Breakfast will be served on the train. Don't bother to shower or dress. If there are Hit Witches on the train, or on Platform 9 ¾, you are to cooperate with them. Do not risk their anger, any of you."

With that, McGonagall turned and left the room. She did not give any other warnings or instructions, nor did she make any attempt to console or comfort. She simply left her students standing around in quiet shock.

Even worse, though, was that ten minutes later, the door opened and five adult witches in black robes barged into the room that was still filled with terrified, angered students. The intrusion shocked everyone, since the common rooms were supposed to be secure against anyone but professors.

"Listen up you lot!" one of the witches said. "The castle is closing. Everyone get your trash and get out. Now!" And because the students were not moving fast enough, the speaker raised her wand and cast an exploding curse at one of the three iron chandeliers that lit the common room.

Students cried in pain as they were showered with iron debris and everyone scrambled for their rooms. Colleen grabbed Denise and stayed with her as they gathered their trunks. Unlike normal at the end of the year, they had to carry their trunks with them as the Hit Witches ruthlessly herded them out of their dorm.

They were among the last students out. Colleen could see the Slytherins were already gone, and the Ravenclaws were loading up on the carts. The Hufflepuffs, though, huddled in the courtyard looking as miserable as the Gryffindors while a ring of scowling Hit Witches watched over them.

When they reached the train, the two houses were forced as a group irrespective of years (even the first through third years were all lumped together) into the last car of the train, while the Slytherins and Ravenclaws shared three cars between them. The snack cart never came, and neither did the breakfast McGonagall promised.

They were an hour from London when Terri Boot slipped into the back car, trunk in hand. She sported a black eye, a bald head, and a long, bloody gash on her forehead. Her trunk had scorch marks on it as well, although it looked like she'd placed an unbreakable charm on it. Her year mates among the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors jumped to her aid, but stopped when Terri raised her hand and shouted, "Shut up and listen!"

The worried conversations that filled the care came to a close as everyone turned to look at the obviously beaten girl. "The Snakes didn't realize I was Muggleborn until later since I've kept my head down and my mouth shut for the past few years, so I heard a lot about what's happening before my roommates snitched on me."

Colleen and Denise listened with wide eyes as Terri told them all about how the Sabbat laid a trap for Harry Potter and his family; how he and some members of the Firebird Army managed to fight off a whole army of Hit Witches until Dumbledore interceded; how the old headmaster lost his life trying to save Harry. There was no mention of Voldemort, since only those who had fled knew about him.

"The Dark Covens are taking over, and we Muggleborns are going to be targets," Terri finished. "If anyone asks you for your address, you'd better lie. And lie good! I have a feeling they're going to be coming after us as soon as school lets out."

It was good advice, given the lines of Hit Witches on the train platforms that did exactly that! The two girls gave the Hit Witches the address of a pub on the far side of Kidderminster where their dad used to go after work sometimes. Once released, they took the rail back home, and didn't actually arrive at their mum's flat until well after dark.

Colleen let herself in with Denise behind her, whinging about how tired she was and how her feet hurt, and that she was hungry. Colleen was hungry too, but her first order of business was to make sure their mum was alright.

Allie Creevey was as fine as she would be any other time—passed out drunk on the sofa. Assured their mum at least was alive, Colleen made her way back into the kitchen, and despite the late hour, found enough to make some pasta for her and Denise.

The girls slept in Colleen's bed that night with their wands close by.

The next day, Allie Creevey woke up just before noon, gave the girls each an absent hug as if they had not just returned from nine months of school, and left for the job she'd managed to get. She lived off the dole, and Colleen had no idea what her mum did career wise. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, either.

That night at eight, Allie still hadn't returned when the phone rang. Colleen answered, "Hello?"

"Colleen? This is Demelza, from school."

Colleen sighed with relief. "How are you?"

"I'm scared," Demelza Robbins admitted. "I told Mum and Dad what happened, and called the Grangers. Did you know Hermione's parents moved to Australia?"

"How'd you know?"

"They left a message on their answering machine," Demelza said. "Colleen, remember when we had to give our addresses, and Terri said to lie?"

"Yeah?"

"I gave the address of a bowling alley in our town. Last night mum and I went bowling, and I saw a Hit Witch there. I told mum, and we went home instead. I'm really scared, Colleen. I don't know what to do! Our coins don't work both ways, so I couldn't even signal anyone."

"Look, write down my address," Colleen said. "Try and get your parents to just have some emergency cash and a rail card handy. If something happens, come find me, okay?"

"Okay," Demelza said in a small voice.

She hung up and Colleen sighed in frustration and fear. She had a feeling a Hit Witch was at the pub she gave as her address as well, and vowed that she and Denise would stay inside as much as they could.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

On the twenty-fifth of June the Hit Witches finally came for Colleen and Denise.

The two sisters remained in the flat the entire time, battling their boredom by studying or playing games and watching the telly. Their mum only came home for a few hours each night, so drunk she could barely move, and once on Saturday with groceries. Colleen worried about the woman—Allie looked pale and was losing weight. But she did not have the energy to protect her sister and her mum, and so she chose Denise. It was a hard decision driven by harder circumstances, and though Colleen didn't realize it, it was a decision almost every Muggleborn witch had to make at some point or another in their lives.

The building where they lived in their tiny flat housed about fifty other families, all crowded together inside one four-story brick building just a few blocks away from the ring way in the centre of Kidderminster and the Crossley Retail Park. They were on the fourth floor simply because it was cheaper—the building did not have a lift and who wanted to walk up four flights of steps to get home if they didn't have to?

It was sheer luck that Denise was sitting at the window looking out over the car park and wishing she could go outside when she saw two women walking toward the building. The women were dressed Muggle after a fashion, though their large hats seemed inappropriate, but Denise could clearly see a wand in one of the women's hands.

"Colleen! They've found us!"

Colleen turned the fire down where she was making them lunch and rushed to the window. "Bloody hell," she whispered. "Denise, go get our trunks, now!"

Denise scrambled to do as her older sister ordered, while Colleen ran back into the kitchen and began rifling through their mum's tin collection. After the fourth can, she found a wad of cash, a small bag of white powder, a lighter, and several needles.

"Ahh, mum," Colleen whispered sadly. With a sigh, she pocketed the cash, left the drugs where they were, and replaced the tin in the kitchen cabinet. By the time she returned to the living room, Denise had their trunks waiting. Since arriving, both girls kept all their belongings in the trunks, rather than the wardrobes in their room.

"I'm going to shrink the trunks," Colleen said. "It's going to cause a warning and tell the Hit Witches right where we are, so we're going to have to make a run for it. Remember the way out?"

Denise nodded eyes wide. With a deep breath, Colleen tried to remember the wand movements she learned right before school ended for this very occasion, and then cast the first shrinking spell. She couldn't help but sigh in relief when it worked; she quickly performed the second, and was already running when the owl flew through their window.

They never heard the howler announcing that both girls were expelled from Hogwarts and would have their wands snapped shortly. Instead, they were rushing down the hall toward the fire escape at the back of the building.

Denise followed out of a blind, near fanatical belief in her sister. Colleen had been her protector since she could remember, and was the one and only constant in her life. So if Colleen told her that they needed to run away from home, she ran.

For her part, Colleen cursed with every step in her mind in an effort to keep from crying in terror. She kept the fear inside, though, because she knew Denise needed her to be strong. The terrible truth was that she had no idea where they were going to go—she did not know the addresses of any of her friends at Hogwarts, and she wasn't willing to put her and Denise's Nana at risk, especially given the fact Nana was not much better than their mum was.

The started scrambling down the fire escape and running down the long, narrow garden that separated their apartment from the building opposite. In Colleen's mind, she planned to pry a few planks loose and escape to the street.

It was not to be. The two witches appeared in front of the girls with a pair of loud pops. The women were grinning and did not even bother with their veils, causing their eyes to gleam with angry magic.

"There're our little poppets," the blonde witch said. "Where do you think you're going, poppets?"

"Our mum called for us," Colleen said bravely. "If we don't get there, she'll call the coppers."

The brunette witch laughed, but it was not a happy sound to the younger girls. "Call the coppers, will she? How can she do that when the Muggle whore's strung out in her pimp's flat, now?"

"What's she mean, Colleen?" Denise asked.

Colleen, though, narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."

"Oh, am I?" The brunette laughed as she took a step forward. Colleen placed herself between the Hit Witches and Denise.

"Look at the brave little Gryffindor," the blonde which sneered. "You ready to take a curse for little sister, Brave little Gryffindor?"

Colleen flicked her wand and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

The blonde witch batted the spell away with a wave of her hand, while the brunette cast not a curse, but a charm. Colleen felt her legs and arms lock to her sides, and if not for Denise catching her she would have toppled right over into the ground.

"Colleen!"

And then the Hit Witches did something literally unforgiveable. The brunette stepped forward and jabbed her wand not at Colleen, but her younger sister Denise, while beside her the blonde made a circular motion with her wand to cast a silencing charm over the yard.

Denise's screams rang in Colleen's ears and virtually ripped the tears from her eyes as her sister suffered for her failure. The curse only lasted a minute, but when it ended Colleen could hear Denise gasping for air as she cried from the agony of it.

"The goblins are going to have fun with these two," the blonde said. "Petrify the runt and we'll place the Portkeys."

"Right."

Denise's sobs cut off abruptly as the _Body-bind_ charm hit and locked her body up just like Colleen's. One of the witches levitated Denise until she lay right next to Colleen, while the other removed a piece of rope from her Muggle-style slacks. She swung the rope up with a flourish, only for it to suddenly burst into flames.

"What the bloody hell was that?" the blonde asked, right before a dark-headed missile slammed into her and bowled her clean off her feet.

The brunette stood and stared in surprise before a red curse struck her right in the head and sent her spinning. From her position Colleen couldn't see who it was before she heard a familiar voice say, "_Finite!_"

Sudden freedom allowed Colleen to sit up and stare at Hermione Granger. "You're alive!"

She was alive, but pale and thinner than Colleen had seen her since that first week after they returned in September. "Are you alright?"

"They cursed Denise!" Colleen said, sobbing at the sudden memory. She spun about as Hermione moved to her sister and removed the petrifying charm. Immediately Denise screamed again and started gasping desperately for air because of the spasming of her diaphragm. Colleen looked up and saw a sight she never thought she'd see.

Harry Potter sat astride the older Hit Witch, pummelling her with his bare hands while unleashing a long strain of angry curses. The witch's face was covered in blood and she wasn't even trying to resist any more.

Hermione also looked up and her eyes widened. "Harry, stop it!"

When Harry did not immediately respond Hermione took her wand and cast a gentle stunner—just strong enough to get Harry's attention. He froze and looked down at the bloodied face for a moment before he spun aside and vomited all over the thick grass of the apartment garden.

"What…?" Colleen said.

"We didn't reach Demelza Robbins in time," Hermione said darkly. "He's still angry about it."

Colleen started at her. "What do you mean?"

"She means the hit bitches took Demelza and killed her parents," Harry snarled as he walked toward the girls. "Was Denise hit by a pain curse?"

Wordlessly, Colleen nodded. Harry started to reach down but stopped when he saw his hands covered in the Hit Witch's blood. He stared hard at the blood a moment before he held both hands up to Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip but cast a strange blue bell flame Colleen had never seen before. The blue fire covered Harry's hands and burned the blood itself, leaving only his clean hands. He then reached into the pocket of his jumper and removed a phial. "Denise, it's Harry. I know it hurts, but you need to take this, okay?"

"Will it make her pain go away?" Colleen asked desperately.

"No, it'll just keep her from being permanently damaged by it," Harry said. "Trust me nothing can make the pain go away except time." He held the phial to the younger girl's mouth and helped her drink it down.

Denise closed her eyes and passed out a moment later. When she was under, Harry picked her up in his arms and stood. Colleen and Hermione did the same. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Trunks are shrunken in my pockets," Colleen said. "Where are we going?"

"A safe house, at least for now. Hang onto Hermione."

With that, the four of them disappeared just moments before a second, larger group of Hit Witches appeared in the garden to find out why their two colleagues hadn't returned yet. Though no one realized it at that moment, a war had begun that would change the world.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	5. Not Amused

A/N: Chap 4 review responses in my forums as normal. Two other things-if you are enjoying this story, please review. I am not a review whore, but when I get 200+ favorites but only 26 reviews, it means lots of readers aren't reviewing. Of course, I understand members of certain online groups _can't_ review due to overwhelming peer pressure. But if you're not with an online community where it is anathema to admit liking any Darth Marrs story, and you are enjoying the story, please feel free to share.

Second-all that said, I'm about to infuriate a lot of rabid anti-shippers. Sorry.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Not Amused**

Amelia Bones exploded from the Floo into the sitting room of Grimmauld Place with an expression that could make even goblins quake. Somehow, Sybil knew to be there waiting. "Whatever you're thinking about saying, you need to calm down first," the former professor said before Amelia could even draw breath to speak.

"Calm down? He may have just wrecked the whole damned thing!" Amelia snapped as she pushed past the other woman. She continued marching angrily through the ground floor of the house until she reached the expanded dining room. She pulled up sharply, though, when she saw a dozen scared young faces gathered around the spacious dining table look up at her in alarm.

"Ahh, Amelia, I was wondering when you would get back," the high, squeaking voice of Filius Flitwick said.

She forced her attention away from the dozen girls who sat around the table and instead turned to stare at Flitwick, who was standing between Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, of all people. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" she demanded.

"I was under the impression we were saving young students from a fate quite literally worse than death," the Charms Master said. "Why, did you hear differently?"

"You've almost destroyed any chance of an agreement between the light covens," Amelia said.

"Fuck 'em."

Amelia blinked and finally turned her attention to Harry. Harry stared right back, feet shoulder-length apart and eyes set. Moreover, the young man _radiated_ angry magic all around him. "What did you say?" she sputtered, truly stunned.

"I said fuck 'em. If they're willing to let my classmates get sold to the goblins, then we don't need them. I told you what was happening, and you said, 'Oh let us handle it, Harry. You're just a kid, Harry.' And because of you Demelza Robbins' parents are dead and she's gone. Alethea Mackovitz was also given to the goblins and her parents are dead. They're dead because you wouldn't let me save them. The Order of the Phoenix was created to make things better. That's what Mum told me. It was not made so you can sit on your arse talking with some of the same women who supported the broken system in the first place while little girls get murdered and raped!"

"You fool," Amelia said, shaking with anger. "You arrogant little _boy_! We _do_ need the covens. Without them, we're fighting Voldemort and the Dark Covens alone. There aren't enough Muggleborns in all of Europe to equal those numbers."

"Of course not, they're all sold to the goblins," Trelawney said from behind her.

Amelia spun around and stared furiously. "_Et tu, _Sybil?"

"Oh no, you'll see the blade coming if I ever stab you. I'm just saying that you're not as right here as you think. You're too close to it, Amelia. You've lost the big picture."

"Two light covens just threatened to declare a feud on the Order for stealing their children and getting them involved in the deaths of Ministry Hit Witches!" Amelia said. "How is that not getting the big picture?"

"The Dark Sabbat is murdering and raping children," Sybil said in a flat tone. "Not to mention their parents. I have to say I'm with Harry on this one. If making nice with covens is more important to you that saving children, then there is something seriously wrong with your priorities."

"They killed my parents. Mum screamed."

Amelia spun around and found herself staring at a girl of eleven or twelve years old. Her face looked smudged with something dark, but there were tracks through the smudges to clearly show where she had been crying. Rather than respond, Amelia stormed back out of the kitchen and crossed the length of the dingy, unkempt house until she arrived at the library and sat down on the couch to try and rein in her towering rage.

A few moments later, Harry walked in. He didn't talk at first; he just came and sat down on a plush chair nearby. When he did finally speak, it was not to apologize like Amelia expected and wanted. "So, how long has Voldemort been acting like a Hit Witch for the Dark Covens?"

It was so completely different from what she was expecting that it took Amelia a moment to catch up. "What was that?"

"Well, I've been thinking about all this. The Dark Sabbat sent one of Voldemort's Death Eaters to kill Hermione and Justine last summer. I think they sent one when I was a kid, but that dream's kind of fuzzy. There was no reason for Voldemort to kill the Lloyds, but every reason for the Dark Covens to want the Lloyds dead. There was no reason to kill my family in the last war, but every reason for the Covens to want my Mum dead. So, Voldemort's acting like their secret weapon. Whenever the Dark Sabbat wants someone removed but can't afford to do it themselves politically, they send Voldemort."

Amelia thought about it and finally nodded. "I can accept that statement."

"So why can't I and the Order do the same for the Light Covens?"

"Harry, you don't understand."

He stood, and again in anger he began to radiate magic. "No, Amelia, you don't understand! When I was eleven years old I watched Voldemort torture and kill Charity Burbage. But you know what wasn't in the reports? He forced her to promise me a home before he killed her. She told me that she loved me, and would adopt me and be my mum, and that I'd never have to go to the Dursleys again. You have no idea what that meant to me. I loved her so much. She was the only person my first year who was really _nice_ to me. And then he stripped her naked and tortured her. He made me watch. You look at me and all you see is a kid. Look again, Amelia. I've seen death in a way you can't imagine because I'm an Aether. I _understand_ exactly what death is. And I've killed people before. I'm not a kid. I'm not sure I've ever been a kid. And I refuse to let you treat me like one anymore."

"Harry…"

"The Order of the Phoenix was for me!" Harry snapped, still not done. "Mum founded it to give me the support structure I would need to do what she hoped I'd do. It's mine, and I'm going to use it. With, or without you."

"You're not ready."

"Voldemort doesn't care. Neither does the Dark Sabbat."

The door opened and Sybil Trelawney stepped in, closing it behind her. "Sybil, will you please try to talk some sense into him?"

"Alright. Harry, don't you dare go off like that again unless you take me with you."

"Sybil, this isn't a joke!" Amelia said.

"No, it's not," Trelawney said. "Instead, ask yourself what Lily would have done? Ask yourself what she _did_ do. She formed the Order of the Phoenix. And you may not remember, but we used to do sallies to save Muggleborn the first time around too. Don't you remember Mary Cattermole? That was your mission, and you were willing to burn down the whole Ministry to save her. She's married and has two daughters and a son now who wouldn't be alive if not for you ignoring the orders of your Dame."

Amelia let her face sink into her hands. "I'm so tired of this, Sybil. It took a solid week to even get the Covens to consider the possibility that they may have to fight. They've got this idiotic notion that if they actually defend themselves, the ICW will side against them. Molly and Augusta both are furious that their families took part in the killing of Hit Witches!"

"Me and Professor Flitwick were the only ones to kill any Hit Witches," Harry said. "I think I killed the one who cursed Denise Creevey with the _Cruciatus_. Denise is only twelve, by the way. The two students the Weasley clan was able to save weren't tagged yet."

Amelia winced. "Harry, without the light covens, there's no hope. Even if by some miracle we overthrew the Dark Sabbat, the ICW would come in, take one look at you, and kill us all."

"Which brings me back to my suggestion," Harry said. "You keep working on the Covens, and the Order will act as a separate body. You'll be the political face. We'll be the militant one. That way you can deny any knowledge of what we're doing, while at the same time directing us on what to do."

"You're going to get killed," Amelia said.

Harry shrugged. "Then I'll come back as a ghost so you can tell me 'I told you so'. You can't keep me from doing what I know is right, Amelia. I won't let you."

Amelia looked from Harry to Sybil before shaking her head and slumping her shoulders in defeat. "Fine. But I'm warning you, Harry, there's going to be a price for this. You basically hijacked the family of a leading Dame to help you. They have every reason to come after you. If we want them to help us at all, we're going to have to give the covens something."

Harry frowned, but nodded. "I figured as much. Bill Weasley came and said they wanted me to form a coven with Ginny as my fourth."

"It would be a good match," Sybil said. She was careful to keep her tone neutral. "She's obviously from a fertile line. Of course, the fact that all the rest of your wives hate her is a bit of an issue."

Harry sighed. "Luna and Tori don't hate her, I don't think. But Hermione hates her enough for all three of them."

"And you, Harry?" Sybil asked. "Have you talked it over with Luna?"

"It's like I told Bill yesterday," Harry said. "It's not even been two weeks since I buried Justine. The whole family is a mess. Hermione barely talks to anyone and Luna can barely look at me. And we keep catching Tori trying to spike the birth control potion because she's convinced if she gets pregnant she won't have to take her O.W.L.s. Adding Ginny will just make everything worse."

"It may be necessary," Amelia said. She flopped back in the chair. "Fine... Right. Take Tonks—technically she's not aligned with any coven since her Mum was thrown out of the Black Coven. Listen to her—she's young, but she was…"

"Trained by Moody, I know," Harry said. "What about Shacklebolt, or Remus?"

"Remus, yes. Shacklebolt is a member of the Sanford Coven and Patricia Sandford is one of the Dames who was not amused by the news that you killed Hit Witches to save Muggleborn. You have to understand, even among the light covens there is a lot of dislike for Muggleborns."

"Yeah, I learned that from Hermione."

Amelia winced. "Talk it over with Luna and the others. One way or the other, you do need to form a coven. It will give you political legitimacy you don't have right now. And of all the covens out there, the Weasleys are one of the largest and most influential. Arthur fathered an unbelievable number of children for an Elder, and that makes his clan valuable. Taking a Weasley daughter to bride would form a very good alliance."

"I'll talk it over with Luna tonight. Anything else?"

"Yeah, those kids can't stay here forever. This is the Order Headquarters. We need to get a place for them."

"Yes, I know."

Amelia sighed and sank back into the couch as Harry left the room. Alone with Sybil, Amelia said, "This is a mistake."

"Maybe. But he's growing up, and he's more like his mum every day. Face it, you could never win an argument with Lily either."

"Yeah, the ginger cow."

Sybil snorted. "Come on, let's go see what they have cooking."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

With the rescued Muggleborns under the watchful, protective eyes of Professors Flitwick and Trelawney, Harry and Hermione _floo'_d back to Potter cottage for the night. When the two emerged from the fireplace, it was to the smell of roast and potatoes. Luna and Tori had been busy, it seemed.

Once Harry picked himself up from his painful landing, the two walked into the dining area to a set table and more food than the family had seen in a while thanks to a new infusion of Muggle quid. "Did Amelia talk to you?" Luna asked as she saw them. Though she spoke casually, Harry sensed tension in the air.

"Yeah, if you could call it talking."

Luna nodded. "Wash up, dinner's almost ready."

After washing his hands and face, Harry returned to the table and sat with the three girls. Sometimes, during those rare occasions where things were going well, it felt like family when they all sat down together. Today, though, it felt like he was sitting with three angry strangers. The tension in the air was more than palpable; the candles were sparking.

They ate in a heavy, oppressive silence. The roast was dry and the potatoes undercooked, but Harry ate it without comment. Food was food, and he remembered being hungry enough in the past never to turn down a meal. Almost finished, he started to stand to do the dishes when Luna said, "Amelia _floo_'d today, while you were off saving the world. She was rather put out with us."

Harry sank back down in his chair. Hermione, nostrils flaring, said, "Yes, we know. Why'd she floo you?"

"After she stopped shouting about stealing the Weasley Children? She wanted to talk to me in my capacity as First Wife," Luna said. Before she could say anything else, Hermione jumped up from the table so fast her chair clattered against the tiles of the floor. She was upstairs before Luna could even say anything.

Tori looked from Harry to Luna while absently gnawing on a dry strip of roast. "Can I still have ice cream?"

Luna took a deep, shuddering breath and buried her face in her hands.

"It's about Ginny, isn't it?" Harry asked.

Wordlessly, Luna nodded.

Looking his first wife—the first girl he ever kissed (not including failed poaching attempts), the first girl he ever loved—Harry felt suddenly, completely lost. "Luna…what should we do?"

She dropped her hands and regarded him with red, moist and swollen eyes. "It has always been the plan to form a coven. We can't build any new system unless we manage to gain a foothold in the old. Mum said that, in her book. We have to form a coven. And politically Ginny is _the_ single best candidate. The Weasleys and Croaker Covens are the lynchpins of the Light Covens. If we take a Weasley witch to form our coven, it will give us instant credibility. Especially if we appoint Amelia as our proxy dame."

"I'm not sure we can trust her. She doesn't want to do what needs to be done."

Suddenly, Luna screamed, "I don't care, Harry! I'm fifteen years old! I can't be a Dame. I just…I just can't be a functioning dame. They were there—they watched when that horrible old witch did those things to me… Those old bats would run circles around me. Molly made me feel like an infant, and she was the one petitioning me! I…" She stopped and forced herself to take a sip of water. "Go talk to Hermione, please."

Nodding at her uncharacteristic break down, Harry left the table and walked up stairs until he found Hermione in her room, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her face buried in the mattress.

"Go away, Harry. I want to be alone."

After Luna's outburst, Harry decided to risk Hermione's. He closed the door behind him before walking to the bed and sitting next to her. She stiffened at first, but relaxed when he made no effort to touch her.

After a long minute, Hermione said softly, "I wonder if it wouldn't be better to let them still my magic so I can just live in the Muggle world. It has to be better than this."

Harry said nothing—he had no family in the Muggle world left. The Dursleys were dead, and would not have wanted him regardless. "Do you hate Ginny that much?"

"The little bint almost got us killed," Hermione snarled. "And now Justine _is_ dead, her father's dead, and her Mum doesn't even know she ever had a daughter. All because of _magic!_" She said the last as a curse, spitting it in anger. "And now you're sitting there thinking about shagging the very girl who did it! She's no better than Daphne Greengrass!"

"That's a lie, and you know it," Harry said, angry despite himself. "Ginny did what a lot of other girls her age would have done. She made mistakes, but she is nothing like Greengrass was, and you know it."

"So you want to shag her?" Hermione said bitterly. "Because you're not getting enough from that little trollop Tori?"

Harry stared, appalled at the sudden anger in his wife. "One, you know damned well no one's getting any in this house, not since… And two, do you really think Tori chose to be the way she is? Don't you remember her mum and sister did to her? What they let Draco and his friends do to her?"

Hermione had the courtesy to blush and look away. They heard a knock, but before Hermione could speak a now visibly calmed Luna came in, followed by the third wife in question. "We need to talk about what Amelia said," Luna told them sombrely. Her eyes were still red, though she'd obviously fought to compose herself. She crawled onto the bed, and then patted a spot beside her for Tori before the petite girl could plop down in Harry's lap, which was her preferred seat.

Tori pouted, but after all the tension in the house knew better than to say anything. Once they were settled, Luna looked squarely at Hermione. "Harry must take a fourth spouse, Hermione."

"I know," she said in a small voice, unable to meet any of their eyes. "But why _her_? Why not Katie Bell? Or Lavender, or one of the Patil sisters? Hell, Deanna Thomas would be great."

"Padma is so pretty," Tori breathed. "But I bet she'd be a wet fish in bed."

"And Deanna is lesbian," Luna pointed out, as usual ignoring Tori. "She might be able to form a nice bond with me, but would not be a suitable partner for Harry. Padma and Parvati are both devout Hindus who will not marry outside their faith. And beside that, their Dame has allied the Patil Coven in the Dark Sabbat. Instead, they will probably enter into arranged bondings with either local Hindu wizards, or wizards abroad. For instance, I know from Padma that her mother came from India to bond with her father."

Hermione shook her head. "Lilith Moon! Delilah Roper, Megan Jones, Sally Ann Perks, Wilhelmina Hopkins? Ariadne Runcorn or Mandy Brocklehurst? Terri Boot or Su Li? There are dozens of witches in our year alone we could approach. Even Cho Chang would be preferable. Why that…that…cow?"

Luna leaned forward to meet Hermione's gaze squarely. "Hermione, Ginny and I used to be best friends, until the covens killed my mum and my family was declared proscribed. I never saw her again until Hogwarts—she stopped being my friend because her mum told her to. If I had a heart left, that betrayal would have broken it. Now, though, I realize she was simply doing what her mum told her to do. You've met Molly Weasley—her children do what she tells them to do, until they are old enough to escape. Think about it—their oldest managed to escape not just her, but the covens themselves by first working for goblins and then bonding with a Veela. Now the elder position is going to fall to Percy Weasley, who is a genuine prat. But think about this, Hermione. Dame Molly did not tell Ginny to risk her life to rescue Justine—Ginny did it because she thought it was the right thing to do. And no one ordered Molly to take you and Justine in after Sir Marcus and his hunters were killed. And even you have to admit—Ginny's been working hard with the Order to save the Muggleborn students."

"She just felt guilty!"

"Does that make it any less right?" Luna demanded. "The fact she felt guilty enough to risk her life should tell you quite a bit about her as a person. And there's something else you're forgetting."

"What?"

Luna looked at Harry and smiled, albeit sadly. "Harry has touched her magic, Hermione. Do you remember how you felt after he touched yours? Or Justine? No man has ever flash-charged a potion in a witch before because all Aethers are female. They haven't bonded, not truly, but he has deeply affected her magic. She longs for him; you can see it in her face."

"She always has," Hermione said. Her eyes started to glisten. "She tried to tell us when she was only a second or third year that she was going to bond him, and there was nothing we could do about it. If we let her in, then…then she wins! And it's just not fair! It's not fair!"

Of all of them, it was oddly Tori who spoke, though she began with an angry snort. "Fair? Fair? Who said anything about fair, you whiney little bint? When you've had three grown wizards stick it…!"

"Tori, love, please don't try to help," Luna said in a brittle voice, cutting the younger wife off. "Hermione, the reason Ginny is an ideal candidate is because she is the daughter of a Dame, but who is in no danger of becoming a dame herself. The Weasley coven is one of the largest, most powerful light covens in England, and if we can form an alliance through marriage with them, that will give us a great deal of political leverage and fighting wands. This is no different than our decision to bond with a Greengrass. It is a purely political decision made for the good of our goals."

Hermione looked at Harry and wiped her eyes. "You do want her, don't you?"

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, as much as I care about you and Tori, I was perfectly happy with just Luna. Hell, I was only fifteen—I was perfectly happy alone. I'd be perfectly happy with any one of you. I don't like the idea of having a whole bunch of wives."

"You like having sex," Tori said pointedly.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "Well, yeah, sex is pretty awesome when you girls are up for it. But…I guess what I'm trying to say is…is…I don't even know, I guess. I'm willing to bond with whoever you girls think best for our coven."

"You could always do a reading on her, like you did me," Tori suggested.

"Or me," Hermione admitted, remembering when he read her palm. "I just really don't like her, Harry."

"You don't know her," Luna said. "But that's going to change. We're definitely going to need every light coven to help us to declare a coven of our own."

"It won't be a quorum," Hermione pointed out. "At least two of the Dark Covens will have to support us."

"I have an idea about that," Harry said. "It's going to be risky, but I think it would solve two problems with one blow. You see, I was looking at the Black Family Tapestry and Headquarters and I noticed something…"

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	6. Back in Black

Review responses are in my forums. Thank you very much for your reviews last chapter. I greatly appreciate it!

* * *

sp

**Chapter Six: Back in Black**

_Sometimes_, Cassandra Greengrass thought in the last day of the last week of June, _it was more satisfying to do things the old fashioned way._

"You're a sick bint, aren't you?" said the wizard on Cassandra's bed. She did not even spare him a glance as she continued to kick the trembling, curled up ball of Muggleborn filth lying in the centre of her bedroom. The girl had been a gift to Cassandra from Delia, one made in commiseration of the loss of her daughter Daphne.

The fact that she also lost her second daughter Astoria to that filthy half-blood Potter did not bother her nearly as much. Tori was never important to her, but Daphne's loss was devastating.

The girl currently on the receiving end of her anger was a Muggleborn who should have attended Hogwarts beginning in 1990. However, Senior Undersecretary Umbridge decided there were too many Muggleborns that year and culled a few off. It was not unusual at all—any year where Muggleborns threatened to outnumber purebloods in a particular year, a few of the weaker children were abducted, their families Obliviated, and the girls were either sold to the Goblins or used as domestic slaves.

This particular slave was abducted from her home and her family Obliviated before McGonagall could get to her. As always, the old cow just marked her off the enrolment list as moving. McGonagall might have guessed what happened year after year, but she knew better than to question it, and the Ministry knew exactly what was happening. After all, it happened every year. This year however, there would be _no_ Muggleborns in Hogwarts.

The immediate reason for Cassandra's rage in this particular instance was a galleon-sized spot of spilled tea on the rolled back comforter of the bed. The girl came in with her head bowed, careful not to look at the post-coitus couple lounging indolently on the bed just two floors above the sick room of Alphard Black, Cassandra's bonded husband, and his first wife Marchetta.

Unfortunately for the slave, the wizard stood, shoved his nethers in the teenager's face, and demanded she service him. The child was so surprised that she spilled a spot of tea, just like Tori used to do all the time.

And so Cassandra punished her. However, after a few cutting curses and a touch of the _Cruciatus_, thinking of Tori made the proxy Dame of the Black Coven think of Daphne, and thinking of Daphne made Cassandra _mad. _So, still clutching her wand, she started kicking the girl. Kicking led naturally to stomping on her, all the while accompanied by cathartic screams of rage.

She was still naked from her dalliance with the already bonded wizard, who just laid on the bed watching as Cassandra beat the girl to the edge of death. When at last her rage passed, the girl lay unmoving on the floor, blood pouring from her open mouth and her eyes squeezed tightly closed. She could feel droplets of blood splatter on her body, and felt suddenly fresh and new. Beating the senseless slave was exactly the catharsis she needed after losing her precious girls. She was still young for a witch, but everyone knew it was harder and harder for a witch to conceive after they flashed at age forty.

Cassandra was almost thirty four. She still had time for another child.

When the rush of violence finally left her, she called, "Demmy!"

The disgusting old elf appeared with a pop. She hated the old elf, which is why she instead had the servant girl. "Mistress calls?"

"Take this trash to the servant's quarters and leave her there. If she dies, dispose of the body. Then clean up the mess."

"Yes, Mistress." The elf and mostly dead girl disappeared in the blink of an eye, and a moment after that so did the pool of blood. She turned and glared at the wizard—one of the Dark Lord's men named Dolph Rutger. The man bonded two witches himself in order to stay out of Azkaban—one was now dead at the Dark Lord's hand to increase Rutger's magic, while the other was likely bent over a table for the Dark Lord's pleasure. Given that most of the Death Eaters bonded against their will or under duress, none seemed to mind sharing their spouses with the newly randy Dark Lord, save Severus Snape, who was strangely protective of his surviving wife Aurora Sinistra.

Nor did any of them mind violence. In fact, Rutger was hard as iron watching her. "And you call me sick?"

"Naked bint covered in blood," the wizard said with a gleeful grin. "What can you expect? Come here, let's have a tussle."

The tussle was good—it always was with Rutger. Of all the Dark Lord's men, he was the most enjoyable because he did not hate women. Most of the Dark Lord's inner circle despised not just the women they were forcibly bound to, but all witches in general. Cassandra saw that same contempt and hatred in Voldemort's eyes as well. Delia thought she still had control of the situation while they negotiated with the ICW to formally acknowledge the new Ministry, but sometimes Cassandra wondered.

She had coupled with the Dark Lord. Many of the younger bonded women of the Dark Covens had. She knew he was partial to the Black sisters—Bellatrix and Narcissa. His body was young and strong, but he only took his pleasure with bonded women. None dared to oppose him.

Coupling with Voldemort was as dangerous as allying with him. Cassandra knew they were all riding atop a chimera, one that would eventually turn to bite them. Delia had delusions of taming the beast. Cassandra simply wanted to survive it, and had chosen this man, Rutger, as the one to help her.

So they tussled, and she used every skill she had gathered since her own mother gave her to a bonded wizard when she was thirteen so she could learn how to get what she wanted with a weapon far more powerful than mere magic.

After, lounging once more with her chosen saviour (even if he did not yet know it), she considered the summer so far. On the surface, everything appeared perfect. Dame Delia's coup went off largely without a hitch—the Dark Covens elevated the minor Parkinson Coven to major status to ostensibly replace the Lloyds, who were tragically wiped out to the last child by the terrible Voldemort, or so the ICW thought. It was true enough, as long as no one asked why Voldemort targeted the Lloyds. With the Lloyds destroyed and the Dumbledore Coven disgraced and disbanded (old Aberforth never produced children with his two wives), that gave the Dark Covens a quorum in the Sabbat. With that power, they declared the light covens traitors for conspiring with Dumbledore to overthrow the Sabbat.

Within one night, the Wizengamot was dismantled, the light-elements of the Ministry of Magic either killed or in hiding, and Hogwarts thoroughly under the control of the Dark Covens. Everything should have been perfect.

Except…everything was _not_ perfect. The hitwitch squads managed to detain only one Muggleborn student and kill a second over the past month before the rest mysteriously disappeared. Their families moved, and the new Ministry did not have any desire to use Muggle means to find them. The Goblins were getting anxious for new breeding stock.

Worst yet, though, was Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. Thinking about him was enough to make Cassandra furious again. It was because of Potter that her precious Daphne was dead. Daphne, like her, had been trained early to use her sexual wiles, and was as consummate a witch as any produced by any dark coven. She would easily have been able to bring Potter under control, and likely produced new sons to carry on the Greengrass name and the Black coven. It would have been child's play for Daphne to slaughter Potter's first two wives.

But that was not to be. Instead, her precious Daphne was blown by that hateful Lloyd Dame out of a window and down near six hundred feet to her death, while her useless, near-squib sister ended up bonding Potter. The child who was destined to be a plaything to Goblins wound up the victor, while the child bound for glory and success ended up on the funeral pyre.

Even almost a month after the school term ended with the coup, they had no clue where Potter and his lackeys were, despite the best efforts of both the hitwitches and the Dark Lord's Death Eaters. The only consolation was that they were at least able to kill the girl their spies assured them would have been his fourth wife.

It was small consolation—just one filthy Mudblood dead, when her precious, perfect Daphne was gone.

Their dalliance for the day done, Rutger stood and began to dress. They did not speak—she preferred Rutger also because he felt no need to fill the silence with useless prattle. As he was finishing, Demmy appeared with a pop, viciously tugging his ears since he knew his mistress did not like to be disturbed when guests were in the manor.

"Demmy begs mistress pardon, young miss calls on the fire."

It was a testament to how good Rutger was that it took a full twenty seconds for Cassandra's brain to process what the little cretin had said. She sat up in bed and stared until Demmy bowed his head right into the carpet. "What…did…you…say?"

With a groan due to her obvious displeasure, the elf said, "Young miss calls on the fire, Mistress."

"Astoria is calling me? She dares?"

"Shall Demmy close the fire, mistress?"

"No, get out!" The elf disappeared with a pop, while Cassandra continued to stare at the spot he occupied. She completely forgot about Rutger, until he spoke.

"Astoria? This the same bint that turned traitor for Potter, then?"

She jumped despite herself, and looked in irritation at the wizard. "Yes," Cassandra snarled.

"Then get your arse up, your stupid cow, and go talk to her."

Cassandra blinked at the sudden change in the man's tone. She had seen him speak to others in that tone, but never her. "This is my house; you do not talk to me like that!"

Rutger rolled his eyes. "Stupid bint. Go talk to the girl, and get her here. We need her to find Potter!"

Still angry at his tone, but unable to fault his logic, Cassandra climbed out of bed, threw on her robe, and stalked out of the master suite. Around her, the halls of Black Abbey Hall reverberated with her footsteps. The stone and wood structure dated back to the 12th century as a Franciscan monastery, but in 1539 the abbot of the monastery refused to consent to the Royal Supremacy decreed with the appointment of Henry VIII as the Supreme Head of the Church in England. For their refusal to divert their income from Rome to the Crown, the whole monastery was put to death and their abbey sold for the benefit of the Crown. The happy purchaser was none other than Sir Anteaus Oswald Black.

Cassandra loved it, and considered it hers. The structure was only three floors, with two wings attached to the original stone keep which actually even predated the Franciscans. The stone stairs leading from the private wing to the main hall were wide and polished by generations of feet. The halls were lined by magical portraits of past Blacks, most of whom glared at her.

She loved that as well—that she, a mere Greengrass—was now mistress of the primary Black ancestral manor.

The Floo fireplace dominated the far wall of the keep, standing easily tall enough for even the tallest person to enter. Over the fireplace hung a twenty-foot long tapestry of the great Black Family tree, crowned by the family's coat of arms: Sable, a chevron between two mullets in chief and a sword in base, argent. Under that noble seal, framed in fire, was the face of the least important, most disappointing member of the family.

"Mother!" the face of Astoria Greengrass called out.

Cassandra stared in disdain at the features outlined in the fire. Daphne Greengrass had perfect features—beautifully proportioned eyes, a nose the exact perfect length for her face, with long blonde tresses that shone like gold in the sunlight. Astoria had hair the colour of wet sand, eyes too large for her face, and no discernible cheekbones in her circular face. Coupled with her virtual lack of magic, she was everything Cassandra despised.

"Why are you calling me?" she asked.

"I wish to come home, mother," the fiery face said in her childish voice. "The others despise me because I am pureblood. They ignore the contract and make me answer to the Mudblood as if she were second wife, not me! And Harry lets her do it. Please, mother, I know where they are all hiding! I can give you any information you want. Just let me come home. I promise I'll be good."

Behind her, Rutger growled, "If she can get us to Potter, you will be greatly rewarded. If you fail, the Dark Lord will gut you like a fish—or sell you to the Goblins."

The cold expression on her lover's face made Cassandra pause, and looking at him she reminded herself that this man was a Death Eater. He was one of the Inner Circle of Voldemort's first reign, who at the time rejected bonding entirely to murder witches and whole covens before finally making a deal to stay out of Azkaban. Whatever allegiance the Dark Lord may have had to the Covens because of Dame Delia's treaty, this man's allegiance was solely with Voldemort himself.

"Of course," she said. She turned to her daughter's pitiful expression in the fireplace. "If you give us Potter, you can return."

"I want to come now, Mother. That stupid Mudblood trusted me with the secret to their _Fidelius_ Charm. It's the home Cousin Sirius inherited. I can get you there!"

With a final glance at Rutger, who already had his wand out, Cassandra mentally reached out to the manor wards which were keyed to her while her husband and sister wife were held in the grip of the Draught of Living Death. She opened the Floo protections and said, "The Floo is clear, you may come through."

"Thank you, mother!" Astoria said. Her face disappeared, and a moment later the fire billowed with an incoming Floo. However, instead of Astoria stepping out, what exited was a rocket in black robes—a rocket that shot directly toward her.

Cassandra had only a moment to blurt out an aborted scream before the figure in the black robes slammed into her mid-section and knocked both to the floor. Fighting for air, she rolled onto her side to see the figure roll quickly to his feet and start casting curses at Rutger.

Despite her pain, Cassandra recognized her attacker instantly and felt rage overwhelm her. Here, in _her_ home, stood Harry Potter himself!

More concerning, though, was that this not-yet-sixteen year old was duelling Dolph Rutger, one of Voldemort's more powerful Inner Circle. Granted, Potter wasn't using a large array of spells, but there was so much magical power behind them it was like a war hammer fighting a foil. The bonded Death Eater did not have the magic to withstand the powerful curses Harry sent at him. Additionally, because of the house wards, he could not Disapparate away either.

The fire flared and Cassandra watched in shock as the light-side whore Amelia Bones rushed out. While Potter was all power and bluster, Amelia fought with skill and experience, and between them they had Rutger down in moments.

The fire flared again, and at last Tori Greengrass stepped out of the fire. With a scream of rage Cassandra began a curse that would kill her ungrateful brat once and for all, but a red spell ripped her wand from her fingers as Amelia disarmed her.

"You're dead!" Cassandra screamed, rushing at her daughter with her bare hands. She did not make it three steps before she found herself wrapped up in conjured ropes. She had a moment to see Tori smirk before she tumbled to the rug inches from the mantle of the fireplace.

"I'm home, Mummy," Tori said. "Did you miss me?"

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

The fire flared, and a moment later Nymphadora Tonks stepped into Black Abbey Hall, followed by Georgina Jordan. Georgina looked around the spacious hall and whistled her appreciation. "Wow."

"Get out of my house, you filthy blood-traitors!" the bound Cassandra Greengrass screamed.

Georgina stunned her without hesitation before resuming her examination of the house. Nearby, Amelia stunned the Death Eater, Dolph Rutger, once more to be safe. Tori looked around before calling out hesitantly, "Demmy?"

Instantly the ancient, grotesque-looking elf appeared, pulling his ears so hard there was blood on their tips. "Little Miss should not be here. Bad Little Miss with filthy Mudbloods should not be in ancient and noble house of Black. Very bad, very bad…"

"Demmy, is Papa still alive?" Tori asked the miserable elf.

"Master still lives," Demmy said. He looked at the unconscious, bound mistress of the house and pulled his ears.

"Is Mama Marchetta?"

"Mistress Marchetta is very sick," Demmy said. "Mistress says Demmy cannot attend her."

The fire flared again and Mary Carlisle stumbled through. The Aether healer did not wear her St. Mungo's uniform, but she carried a brown leather mokeskin bag with the caduceus symbol on it. Being an audio Aether, she did not respond as poorly to the Floo as Luna and Harry, but didn't enjoy it either.

"The family elf says Papa and Mama Marchetta are still alive!" Tori said to the newcomer. "Demmy, this witch is a healer. Are they still in the same room?"

"Yes, Little Miss."

"Georgina, Tonks, check the perimeter for other Death Eaters," Amelia ordered. "Tori, Mary and Harry?"

"We'll find the Blacks," Harry said. "How about you?"

"The library as discussed," Amelia said. "We're taking a huge risk with this, Harry. It'd better work."

Harry shrugged and went on his way with Tori and the healer. As they walked up the stairs, he could not help but look around in appreciation at the large manor. The main hall stood easily forty feet high, with thick stone and wood buttresses. Like Hogwarts, the walls were also lined with portraits, many of whom demanded to know who he was. Tori stopped him with a tug on his hand before one particular portrait of a formidable, rather angry looking wizard with long black hair. Surprisingly, there was a similar cast to the man's cheeks as Harry's own. The tag at the base of the portrait read Cygnus Black the Younger.

"Hello, Cygnus," Tori said with a smile.

The wizard glared. "What do you want, shameful brat?"

"I wished to introduce you to your great grandson, my husband Harry Potter."

Harry blinked in surprise and stared back at the portrait a moment in surprise before summoning his manners. "Good day, sir."

"What are you doing in this house, Harry Potter?"

"I am here to save my cousin Alphard Black from his second wife, Cassandra," Harry said honestly.

Along the wall, other portraits began whispering among each other, causing a sibilant hiss to echo through the large space. "To what purpose?"

"My wife is Alphard's only surviving issue," Harry said. "If she bears me a son, that son will be the next elder of the Black Coven. I would hope Alphard would be an ally."

"And what of the girl's mother?" Cygnus demanded.

"She thought the Draught of Living Death was good enough for my father," Tori said. "It should be good enough for her."

Harry waited as the man in the portrait stared first at him, to Tori, and then back at him. "Perhaps then the Black family has not been entirely lost. Know this, though, great-grandson. If Marchetta fell to Cassandra's trickery, it was only because Cassandra struck first."

"That's _really_ good to know," Tori muttered. She gave the portrait a curtsy. "Thank you, Great Grandfather."

Harry blinked before smiling. "Oh yeah, I forgot we were cousins too."

"Marrying one's cousins runs in the Black family," the portrait said. "Go now."

Harry bowed his head in thanks, and with the healer Mary Carlisle in tow they made their way to the top of the stairs for the first floor. Unlike the spacious great hall, the passageway to the various rooms in the residential wing hung low enough that Harry could have hopped up and touched it without effort. Heavy wooden beams ran across every ten feet, making it feel heavy and overbearing. The walls were heavy stone on both sides, hung occasionally with ancient tapestries that predated magical portraits, and showed scenes of wizards and goblins fighting. The charms on the tapestries were so old nothing moved save the occasional goblin crossbow bolt in the sky.

Tori reached the last door in the wing and stepped in. The space inside was surprisingly large, with a fireplace set in the centre of the large room not just to provide heat, but also apparently to provide structural support. On one side of the room Harry saw a well-appointed sitting area with old but comfortable sofas, a wet-bar, and a corner that was walled off to form a loo. On the other side of the fireplace he saw the bedroom.

On two separate beds lay Alphard and Marchetta Black. Alphard reminded Harry a great deal of Sirius, only older and thinner. The man's black hair was thinning, but was obviously well groomed, as was his sharp beard. On the next bed, the witch looked somewhat older, her hair lank, and an unpleasant smell hung in a miasma around her.

"Demmy never liked Mama Marchetta," Tori whispered conspiratorially, while Healer Carlisle stepped around the young couple and cast a diagnostic charm on Alphard.

"Well, he's alive," Mary said. "He's lost quite a bit of magic, though. How long has he been like this, Tori?"

"I think Mum slipped him the draught when I was two," Tori said. "I don't remember for sure, but I think Daphne mentioned it."

"And Marchetta?"

"I do remember that—I was six. I remember they fought and a man came and cursed her. That's when Mama started giving her the draught."

"How does the draught work?" Harry asked.

"It puts a witch-born into a magical coma," Mary explained. "They literally are borne by their magic alone—they don't eat or drink at all, and can live for decades until they exhaust their magic and finally die."

She reached into her mokeskin bag—though it was the size of a standard healer's bag, she reached her entire arm in past her elbow before she removed a phial with a violet-coloured potion. "Okay, Tori, let's wake him up."

Tori sat at the wizard's side as Mary gently lifted his head and poured the potion in. She had to charm his throat to make him swallow. Harry watched as the potion began to flood through the man's cool blue magic, brightening it to a near green colour. Moments later, the man groaned. "Water," he gasped in a dry, raspy voice.

Tori ran into the sitting area and emerged a moment later with a glass—Mary once more held his head up to let him sip the water. The man sipped once, then again, before she let his head fall back to his pillow. With effort, he opened eyes the colour of a late afternoon sky. Turning, he looked at Tori. "Do I know you, child?"

"I am your daughter, Astoria."

"Astoria?" The man blinked again. "Tori... Yes, I remember. You are so old! How long as it been?"

"Twelve or thirteen years, I think," Tori said.

"And who is this boy behind you?"

"This is my bonded husband, Harry Potter."

The old wizard blinked in surprise, though his face remained neutral. "Potter? The Boy Who Lived?"

"Yes, Papa. Mama contracted with his first wife for either me or Daphne."

"Child, you have no magic. Why was Daphne not chosen?"

"Because she intended to kill my other wives and enslave me," Harry said. "Astoria did not."

Rather than be upset, Alphard chuckled tiredly. "Yes, she was just like her mother, a regular viper. Very much a Slytherin. And where is dear Marchetta?"

"There, Papa," Tori said, pointing.

It took all three of them to help the wizard sit up on the side of the bed. He looked and felt skeletal to Harry's touch, but his eyes burned bright with his magic, even if much of it was being siphoned off by his bonds.

"Demmy, come to me," the old wizard said. He did not raise his voice, but immediately Demmy appeared.

The elf openly wept. "Master is awake! Oh happy day, Master is awake! Demmy took good care of master, yes he did. Yes, good care."

"Tell me everything, Demmy," Alphard said. "Tell me how I and my first wife came to be here."

Weeping in joy, the elf spent the next hour doing just that.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	7. Naiveté

Review responses are in my forums as normal. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Naiveté**

Amelia Bones put one scroll aside and pulled another as she continued rifling through the desk in Black Abbey's library. Really, it should be called a study, since the manor's business affairs were kept there. However, rising on either side were shelves of books, and the desk was the smallest piece of furniture in the otherwise large space. Alphard as Elder of the Black Coven held control of the main branch of the Black Family, while the late unlamented Sirius headed the primary cadet branch. As impressive as the Black library was in Grimmauld Place, the library here rivalled that of Hogwarts itself.

Sadly, for the past thirteen years, the books had been completely neglected and were now coated in dust. In addition, if the scrolls were any indication, Cassandra had done little to care for the Black family estate. Not only was the manor in ill repair, but their assets were declining steadily as a result of atrocious mismanagement and overspending.

"There you are," Amelia whispered with satisfaction as she uncovered a parchment of Black family properties.

Although she rarely talked about her youth, when Amelia was fifteen years old, her Dame and mother proposed a possible alliance between the Bones Coven and the Black Coven in exchange for a vote of one law or another. Likely it was in support of something Dumbledore was pushing, given how closely allied the Bones and Dumbledore covens were.

And so Amelia spent several days with the three Black Brothers, as they were known. Of course, one of them was a cousin, but Orion, Alphard and Cygnus the Younger were all within a few years of each other in age, were all close friends, and were all devilishly handsome. They were easily thirty years Amelia's senior and all bonded already, but Amelia was young, naïve and enthralled by their heady dark magic and power.

Of course, it all came crashing down when Cygnus decided he didn't want to bother waiting for the Bones Dame to pick one of them and tried to take Amelia by force. Worse yet, his First Wife Druella helped him.

Fortunately, Amelia's father was an Auror and made sure his children knew a few tricks. She managed to escape before he violated her. Because of his actions a formal feud was declared between the Black and Bones Covens which did not end until the Bones Coven's utter destruction at the hands of Voldemort and his allies. Over the years, Amelia became convinced Voldemort only attacked her family to gain the support of Cygnus and the Blacks.

However, during those few days before it all fell apart, Alphard and Orion actually tried to woo her by taking her on a tour of all the many properties the Blacks had. Orion, being the cadet family head, owned properties in London and abroad, while Alphard held control of several magnificent properties in the kingdom.

Of course, Orion and his entire branch were now dead with the passing of Sirius, as was Cygnus and his wives. Cygnus's evil lived on through his daughters Bellatrix and Narcissa. Amelia was not sure about the third girl, Andromeda, who she suspected was the black sheep of the family for marrying a half-blood wizard with only enough magic to form a single bond.

What she remembered, though, was one particular property that had sat vacant since the death of Regula Black, a miserly, unbonded witch who wanted nothing to do with the family ever again. She died young for a witch, barely making it past a century, and her property had lain empty since then, within the Black family property list but unused for decades.

"Perfect," she said as she left the office with a scroll.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

"Where is Cassandra now?" Alphard Black said in a low, controlled tone when Demmy finished his story. He did not look at any one person, but rather stared down at the floor with the utter stillness of either great age, or great concentration.

"Bound and stunned in your hall," Harry said, "along with the Death Eater who was with her."

"Mummy has had many lovers," Tori confessed.

Alphard raised one elegant black brow. "Bonds do not ensure fidelity," he said. "Nor safety. I wonder what self-rationalization Marchetta had to go through for her bond with me to allow her to give me the draught."

He stood slowly, and Tori went to his side to help without hesitation. He walked unsteadily to his first wife's bed, wrinkling his nose at the smell of her. Mary Carlisle accompanied him without comment and cast a diagnostic spell.

"Bedsores have become infected," the healer said. "The elf was not caring for her."

"Bonds also do not require me to do anything about that," the old wizard said, causing the healer to stop her ministrations. "Demmy, bring Cassandra here—place her on my old bed. And then bring me Draught of Living Death."

The elf obeyed, and moments later the bound, stunned form of Cassandra Greengrass lay on the very bed she had helped consign Alphard too. The old wizard looked down at her with a contemptuous expression. "Marchetta saw a witch after her own heart, without realizing that her own heart was twisted. Thus she let this new serpent into my home, only to fall to her bite."

Alphard looked about the room until his eyes fell on Harry. "Give her the draught."

"Why me?"

"Because, though Marchetta might have been able to twist her soul around her bond, I choose not to. I cannot actually cause harm to my wives directly, even if I look upon them with only contempt."

Harry looked to Tori, who shrugged. "Demmy was more of a mum than she was," the girl said.

Demmy pulled his ear, bulbous eyes shining as he did.

With a nod, Harry took the draught and pulled Cassandra's jaw until her mouth opened. Healer Carlisle simply looked away with a shrug—it was not her choice and the Order knew Cassandra had to be kept out of the way.

The witch swallowed reflexively. "Wake her before the potion takes effect," Alphard ordered.

Harry cast an _enervate_ on the witch. Her eyes fluttered open, though it was obvious the draught was already starting to work. Alphard smiled down at her without warmth. "I wished you to know, wife of mine, before the draught stole you to darkness. Know that you have failed, and you and Marchetta both shall rest here for the remainder of your days. Good bye, dear wife."

Cassandra Greengrass struggled to express the horror and hatred in her eyes, but the potion was working too fast, and in a second her eyes closed, and the only sign of her rage was the slight frown that marred her otherwise attractive face. She was, truly, a beautiful woman on the outside.

Alphard took a deep breath and straightened to look squarely at Potter. "You have Black in you. I know Delia was another snake in a nest of foolish Griffins. Are you her servant?"

"I've left the Griffin Coven," Harry said.

"There's much to talk about, Papa," Tori said. "But before this, we wish a boon as payment for our rescuing you. The light covens have been declared rogue and we have a Dark Sabbat. Without two Dark Covens to support us, Harry cannot take a fourth wife and declare coven himself. Will you support my husband in the forming of a new coven?"

Alphard blinked and stared hard at Harry. "There was a rumour your father might have done the same, but your mother ruined him for that, being a Muggleborn."

"My first wife is a pureblood of ancient pedigree," Harry said. "Tori, here, is by contract my second wife. My third is a brilliant Muggleborn witch, but my fourth would…well, we're talking about it, but likely a pureblood witch as well."

"Walk with me then, and we'll talk."

The small party left the room with the two sleeping witches and moved through the halls with the low ceilings until they reached the broad stairs. All the portraits began to talk amongst themselves at the appearance of Alphard Black, who walked slowly but still managed to stay on his feet.

When they reached the ground floor, they found not just the bound and stunned Death Eater Dolph Rutger, but also a bloodied, bruised witch dressed in grey rags without shoes. Amelia was leaning over her, but Mary saw the girl and rushed to her side as well.

"What happened?" Harry asked. "Who is she?"

"Mistress's Muggleborn slave," Demmy told them from Alphard's side. The elf followed the older wizard like an adoring dog. "Slave spilled tea, and so Mistress punished her."

"If she did not have magic, she'd be dead," Amelia reported grimly. She stood and looked the older wizard in the eye as Mary started to tend the beaten witch. "Alphard, it has been a while."

"Indeed, Amelia," the Elder said with a wry, half-smile. "I must say the years have been kind. You're as beautiful as I remember."

"Still flirting, I see."

He shook his head. "My dear, if not for Cygnus, it would be you I bonded and not Cassandra."

"Actually, I rather liked Orion," Amelia said.

Alphard stared a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching, before finally he laughed. It was a deep sound that rose up from the pit of his stomach. "Indeed, he was a mischievous rapscallion, wasn't he? Though the Dark Lord managed to turn his boys in the end, I know he was the one who helped Sirius escape to his cousin, Mr Potter's father. A loss, really." He grew sombre again. "And this child?"

"She'll live," Mary Carlisle said grimly. "Her magical core and her brain are both intact. I need to get her back to headquarters. Petrify her please, Amelia. It'll be the only safe way for her to go through the Floo." After Amelia complied, Mary took a deep breath, levitated the girl behind her, and threw the powder in before disappearing in a billow of flame.

Alphard did not appear to be the least bit interested in the beaten slave, though. Rather, he was looking down with an expression of contempt at the Death Eater. "Demmy, bring me my wand."

With two pops, the elf disappeared and reappeared a second later bearing a long wand of a dark wood Harry suspected was cherry. "This man—I remember him as one of the fools who served Voldemort," Alphard said. "What is his name?"

"That's Dolph Rutger," Amelia said, being familiar with all the known Death Eaters. "Dame Delia and her fellow dark Dames have openly allied with Voldemort. He has become their weapon while they try to crush the light covens."

The wizard nodded as he continued to study Rutger. Without looking up he said, "Tell me, young Potter. What possessed you to bond my daughter?"

"It was a political match," Harry said. "But we have grown to love each other, I think."

"Harry's really good in bed," Tori chirped. "He's very nice and he doesn't hurt me, like the boys Mama and Daphne used to give me to, did."

"I see." Alphard did not seem at all perturbed by the fact that one of his daughters was routinely abused as a child, any more than he did poisoning his wives. "And Daphne?"

"Dead," Harry said. "She attempted to murder Tori when we selected her as my bride, and the Dame of the Lloyd Coven killed her. I was a member of the Lloyd Coven at the time."

"And how are the Lloyds?"

"Slaughtered to the last witch," Amelia said. "The Dumbledore Coven is gone as well."

The old wizard nodded thoughtfully before looking around the Abbey. "Tell me, Mr Potter, what will you do if you declare coven? What is your goal?"

"To tear the Sabbat down entirely and replace it with a democratic government."

Alphard stared at him, before laughing. "Democratic? In magical society? Oh boy, you are naive, aren't you? Let me demonstrate something to you, Mr Potter. TORI, ON YOUR KNEES, GIRL!"

Harry jumped at the shout and the brief whip of magic that emanated from the old wizard. It was only a shadow of what Harry could generate, and yet it still forced Tori to fall to her knees instantly, blinking in surprise.

"Get up!" Harry said, embarrassed for her and unconsciously pushing his own magic into her.

"STAY DOWN!" Alphard ordered.

Unable to stop a surge of pure, almost blinding rage, Harry stopped pushing his magic at Tori and instead pushed it at the other wizard. Alphard's black eyes sparkled as he pushed back, but the contest was short and decidedly one-sided. Alphard, though undoubtedly more experienced, was nonetheless bonded twice over, while Harry's bonds had no drain on his magic at all.

Alphard staggered back and raised both hands in surrender, while Tori scrambled to her feet with a confused expression on her face.

The old wizard chuckled even as he stopped challenging Harry. "Magic is about power, boy. Choices are made by those who have it, and those who do not have it obey because they are conditioned by their magic to do so. I can feel you have power—if you wanted, you could have every witch in this room on their knees, bonded or otherwise. Why else do you think they fight so hard to ensure all men are bound to the limits of their magic? They use their sex and their bonds to shackle us because they know if they do not, we _will_ shackle them."

"I would never do that," Harry said.

"Perhaps not, but other wizards will," Alphard said. He pointed at Rutger. "This one would, without hesitation. I despise witches, boy. I despise them for what they have done to me. But not even I'm foolish enough to dispose of their Sabbat. Without those bonds, wizards would go back to killing each other like we did eons ago, fighting like animals in the streets over witches, killing each other's children with each pride of witches we steal. No, democracy is a fairy tale that could never work with witch-born. As much as I hate the Sabbat, I know it is necessary."

He looked around at the shocked expressions around him and laughed with more contempt. "You've never dealt with a real wizard, I see. That Dumbledore—he put on a façade so the Covens would not fear him, but those of us who knew him knew to fear. He could easily have destroyed us all. I'll give your fourth bonding the Black Coven's blessing, boy. For the aid you have given me, and since you may be the father of my heir, I must give you that much. Nor will I aid the Dark Sabbat in fighting you. Balance between the Dark and Light covens is necessary to prevent one side or the other from destroying itself. The light becomes so compassionate it overburdens itself until it collapses, while the Dark becomes so twisted with hate it ends up killing itself with it. But I will not help your little revolution—not at all."

He looked about the room. "Does Sirius still live?"

"No," Harry said, fighting to keep his tone level.

"How about other Blacks? Walburga? Narcissa? Bellatrix? Andromeda?"

"Walburga is dead. Narcissa is the second wife of Lucius Malfoy and an ardent supporter of the Dark Sabbat and the Dark Lord," Amelia said. "Bellatrix—she is bonded to Rodolphus Lestrange and is one of the Dark Lord's only female lieutenants."

"And Andromeda? Last I heard she'd married a half-blood."

"That's my dad," Tonks said, speaking for the first time as she faced her uncle. "Mum is a healer at St. Mungo's. I'm an Auror. Or I was, before the Ministry fell. Mum's been stricken from the family and I have a price on my head."

Alphard regarded Tonks intently. "A powerful witch," he said. "In the absence of a healthy dame, tradition dictates I can appoint a proxy. I will appoint your mother to fill that role and let her back into the family. I can do nothing for you. She will work with your other allies to affirm your declaration, Potter. Will this be satisfactory?"

"Yes, thank you," Harry said, careful still. He had an almost irrational desire to hurt the wizard they had just rescued.

"There is one other boon I would ask of you, Alphard," Amelia said. "Consider it dowry to Mr Potter for Astoria's hand." She handed him the scroll of properties. "Harry needs a property, and I believe Regula Black's residence would do quite nicely."

Alphard studied the scroll for a moment before staring back at Amelia. "Even when I was wooing you, Amelia, that house was dilapidated."

"It is perfect for our needs, though."

Alphard nodded. "Very well." He brandished his wand and touched the property list. A second sheet of parchment popped into existence. "There is the deed; I give it to Mr Potter wholesale as a belated dowry. Now, our business is concluded. Leave Rutger—I will deal with him in the traditional manner. The rest of you—please depart my home."

Having achieved their aims, the whole of them moved to the fireplace, which with the wards over the house was the only means of leaving. "Potter," Alphard called as Georgina and Bill left.

"Yes?"

"This contract for my daughter's hand, how does it handle any sons?"

"If Tori delivers a son, he will be a Black in name and blood, even if I have no other sons," Harry said. "That was in the contract."

Alphard nodded. "Good. We will see each other again, boy. I would wish you luck with your revolution, but that would be foolish. Instead, I will tell you this. Do not wait. Get my daughter with child as soon as you can—if she bears the heir to this coven, it will ensure the coven's survival, and thus its power and resources. This is especially important given your suicidal crusade."

"We'll think on it," Harry said, before he and Tori disappeared into the fire.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Later that afternoon, after receiving the deed of the property, Harry and Amelia _Apparated _to a corner of Wales as isolated as it was possible to be within the United Kingdom. They appeared in a small, flagstone patio which was uneven and broken up by weeds. Around them, overgrown trees brushed against broken stone paths, and grasses and shrubbery threatened to overwhelm what the trees did not cover. Carefully making their way through the tattered, unkempt garden, they finally came within sight of the home of Regula Black.

"Wow, that's ugly," Harry said.

The house appeared to be a manor in the Elizabethan tradition, though a smaller one than many he had seen. But even a small country manor was still a large home to most of modern England. They made their way closer to the home, careful of wards, but the only thing they detected was a very faint Muggle-repelling ward. They pulled open the door, which actually fell off in the process.

The interior had signs of both animal and human habitation despite the weak repelling wards, though Harry couldn't tell which was worse. With the collapsed wards, there wouldn't be anything to prevent squatters. They looked through the empty shell of the home for nearly an hour before walking back outside. "Well, it's free, so at least we didn't lose anything," Amelia said. "It's worse than I remembered. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me."

The two continued the tour of the old, dilapidated house in silence. Harry counted sixteen bedrooms. Three rooms had their own washrooms, while the rest shared common washrooms. The home also had a ballroom larger than the entire Dursley house with faded, weather-worn frescos on the walls that Harry could barely make out.

When they stepped out into what should have been the back garden, Harry understood why Amelia suggested it when they were going over the plan and negotiating her agreement to it. "How much land?"

"Only fifteen acres," Amelia said. "The Black Family gained much of its wealth as a distillery. They grew their own barley on this field using sex rituals to increase the yields. The family business closed by the time Regula inherited the home. They kept it for the tax write-offs with the Ministry, but in time even that was forgotten. You wanted space, you have it."

"It's going to be hard to ward all this."

"You would need a professional warder or curse breaker, like Bill Weasley."

Harry sighed at the reminder of what he and Luna had agreed to in order to go through with his plans. "I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help once Ginny is bonded."

"It has to be done," Amelia said.

"So I keep being told," Harry grumbled. "Just like I had to bond Luna, even though neither of us had ever even met, or had any desire to bond. Just like I had to bond Hermione, or Astoria. We 'have' to bond. We're never given any choice."

"That's what we're fighting for, Harry," she said.

They stepped off the covered porch into some of the thick undergrowth. Harry stood just off the steps, arms over his chest, staring into the lands he now owned. Behind him, Amelia said, "You're thinking about what Alphard said."

He didn't bother to deny it. "Is it true?"

Amelia shrugged. "The one time my husband tried it on me I kicked his 'nads after. It was a cruel trick to do that to Tori—she has so little magic that she made an easy target. But if it had been Hermione, I doubt it would have worked with him being bonded."

Harry sighed in relief.

"But yes, it's true."

Harry's relief died. "You mean wizards have _power_ over witches?"

"No more than witches have over wizards. Your magic affects us, yes. Just like the sight of our bodies affects you. Remember—wizards can't easily bring themselves to curse a naked witch. But yes, it happens. And it's not all bad. Don't you even see the effect you have on your wives? You hug them and share your magic with them, and they turn to putty. Even when Hermione is furious, you can make her melt. Worse yet, she _knows_ it. Luna does as well. That's what happens when you bond without the normal wand-induced drain."

"And Tori?"

"Tori was raised to expect it, so doesn't think about it," Amelia said with a shrug. "In your case, there is little harm because you mean well. I can't imagine you using your magic to make them do something they don't want to do. But historically, that's the way it used to work. One wizard would rule over a coven of women and fight any wizard that came into his territory. It was much like lions, really. That doesn't mean we can't try a democratic government, though. It shouldn't be necessary to oppress one group to provide freedom for another."

She continued talking, parroting Lily Potter's stated beliefs. Harry nodded in the right places, but inside he was reeling.

Could it be that his mother was _wrong?_

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	8. The Fourth Bond

A/N: Chap 7 responses are in my forum as usual. And now that moment of dreaded inevitability...

* * *

**Chapter Eight: The Fourth Bond**

"_Do you know where my mummy is?"_

_Harry stood in the great hall of Hogwarts looking down at where Voldemort was very carefully laying a trap for Amelia, which she seemed oblivious to. Around them, the line of dead continued to look on in silence._

_And there was the beautiful little girl with the golden hair, tugging at his trousers. "Do you know where Mummy is?"_

Harry woke up with a gasp and sat up once again alone in his parents' old bedroom. He was just recovering his breath when the door opened and Luna stepped in wearing a pure white, sheer dress. "It's time to get ready," she said in a soft, sad voice. Her eyes were dry, though.

Harry was getting married again. "Hurray for me."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Harry and Luna Potter _Apparated_ to a narrow country lane just outside the wards of the Burrow. They arrived silently—an aspect of the side-step apparition that was common only to visual Aethers. Luna wore her Hecate crown now along with the white dress she'd pulled on first thing that morning. Harry wore the same white trousers and cross-tied shirt he wore when he married Tori, though with the blessing of underwear this time. He noticed the outfit seemed a little tighter than before, and left his ankles bare.

They were met by two witches at the gate—one he easily recognized as Georgina Thomas. The second had similar coloured hair, but was shorter, stockier of build, and almost as masculine as Millicent Bulstrode with her long red hair pulled back in a severe bun from her blockish face. Like their older brother Bill, her face had a different cast to it than Fred's, Georgina's, Ron's or Ginny's—telling evidence of her different mother.

"So this is Harry Potter," Charlene Weasley said with a broad, unpleasant smile. "Ginny finally did get her hooks in you, I suppose. And Little Loony Luna, who ever thought you would be a first wife and potential dame?"

"Harry's Mum did for one, among many," Luna said airily. Harry glared, taking an instant dislike Ron's older sister.

"Don't be a twat, Charlie," Georgina said. "Harry, Luna, glad to see you. How are all the kids doing?"

"Doing fine," Harry said. "Flitwick has them all learning like they were in school. We just need some space for them. And if your coven agrees by the terms of the contract, we should have that taken care of soon."

"Are the other Dames here?" Luna asked.

Georgina nodded. "Place is warded like you wouldn't believe. That's why we're here—we're going to have to walk you through the ward lines. Come on." She offered her arm and Harry accepted. Charlene shrugged and did the same to Luna, who likewise accepted the gesture.

For Harry's part, they approached what looked like a glistening wall that rose up in a massive dome covering the property. It was the strongest active ward he had ever seen outside of Hogwarts, and the strands of magic running through it looked both powerful and deadly. He saw how the magic touched Georgina's core, somehow recognizing her as a Weasley and the fact that she was guiding Harry. It tingled over his skin and magic before allowing him entry.

The house Harry remembered from his occasional visits seemed the same, but in the back rose a great white tent. "Wow, a little excessive for a fourth bonding, wouldn't you say?" Harry muttered.

Georgina snorted. "Harry, my good but naïve young friend, there are _no_ fourth bondings. That's what makes it a big deal. And…well, it's Mum. She did the same thing when Fred and I bonded our partners. It's just how we Weasleys do things."

The grounds bristled with witch-born of all ages. Young children ran about in light summer robes playing tag, while their elders stood about talking earnestly about the dire state of the magical world. He spotted all the Order members quickly—Shacklebolt stood talking with another witch Harry did not recognize, while Amelia stood speaking with Augusta Longbottom and a darker-skinned couple in Indian-style robes he did not recognize. The presence of Augusta convinced Harry to look for Neville and he was pleased to see his friend sitting at a table with Susan and Hannah, Ron and Seamus Finnigan.

He didn't get a chance to speak to them, though. Georgina pulled him firmly toward the house, with Luna and Charlene a step behind. They entered a side door into the vastly expanded interior, and were almost immediately set upon by none other than the unsinkable Molly Weasley.

"Harry, Luna! Dears, welcome!" She gushed, completely forgetting that just two weeks ago she was threatening to declare a coven feud with them. "Harry, Aunt Muriel will do the inspection to ensure you fulfilled all the rites. Luna, this way please…"

"With all due respect to Aunt Muriel, I decline," Harry said, forcing a smile. Sybil warned them that, though the Weasleys were an avowed Light Coven, the traditions of marriage were the same across the magical spectrum.

That brought Molly up short. "But…but…why?"

"It's dehumanizing?" Luna said, as if asking a question. "It's humiliating? It's unnecessary, at the least. Feel free to choose one. Harry has bonded three times—we are here at your expressed request to bond a Weasley daughter who does not have a good history with Harry's other bonded. I believe we can overcome these differences, Dame Molly, but please understand that we do not come as penitents to your home. You came to _us_. I will not allow my husband to be subjected to an inspection as if he were a piece of chattel."

Around them, the bustling activity of all the other witches of the coven came to standstill as the stared at the newcomers. "I have forgiven Ginny her role in the targeting and eventual death of the woman who was my original fourth wife," Harry said in a quiet but firm tone. "Just as you did not understand what you were doing when you brought that information to the Sabbat, I know she did not fully understand what she was doing when she brought it to you. However, Justine is still dead."

Harry didn't mean to push magic out as he spoke, but the idea of being poked and prodded by yet another hateful old witch filled him with a deep anger that he could not keep completely contained. Molly flushed bright red and a few of the older itches behind her stuttered.

One witch in the back said, "Control your husband, witch!"

Luna beamed. "We are bonded as equals. I do not control him any more than he controls me."

The old witch sputtered before turning to Molly. "Molly, you cannot allow this…this…"

As Molly and Aunt Muriel began arguing, Luna turned to Georgina and said softly, "Where were we to wait?"

"I'll show you."

She led them to a large linen closet of all things. "You sure know how to rile Mum," Georgina said, grinning. "I wouldn't worry about it, though. Amelia's been spreading the word about what you've been up to this summer. The Dames might not be all that happy, but the Elders are pretty impressed."

With that, Georgina left the two alone. "I hate doing this," Harry whispered. "For Hermione's sake, if not mine."

"She may not like it, but she understands," Luna said. "We wouldn't be here if she didn't finally agree."

Harry looked down at his first wife, smiling to himself as their bond snapped into place the moment of prolonged eye-contact. "And you?"

"I'm not happy having to share you at all," she admitted. "But Ginny is a strong witch trying to find her way out from under her Mum's thumb. I think this is a good match over all."

Both teens jumped at the knock. "Well, that was quick," Luna muttered as Harry pulled his wand and opened the door. However, it was not Molly Weasley outside but instead Sybil Trelawney with an obviously bonded couple in that indeterminate range of years between fifty and a hundred.

"Harry, Luna, I'm sorry if we interrupted," Sybil said, "but I wanted to introduce you to Abelin and Wilda Morgan. The Morgans were one of the client families of the Lloyd Coven."

Harry swallowed hard. "It's nice to meet you," Harry said with a nod, while Luna curtseyed. Surprisingly, the woman curtseyed right back to Luna, dipping even lower despite being older, and the man's nod to Harry was also lower.

"Mr Potter, we're honoured to meet you. The loss of the Lloyd Coven was truly devastating."

"It was," Harry said. "Dame Branwenn, and her granddaughter Dame Branwenna were both incredibly helpful, brave women. Branwenn wed Luna and I, and Branwenna saved the life of my third wife."

"She told us," the witch, Wilda, said with a sad smile. "Mrs Potter, from what Amelia and Dame Molly have said, it appears your husband will declare coven today and be affirmed. Is that your plan?"

"It is," Luna said.

"When you have been affirmed, would you entertain a petition to join your coven?"

Harry and Luna shared a long look, genuinely surprised. "Aren't we a bit young?" Harry asked.

"Yes, you really are," Abelin said with a chuckle. "But old Branwenn told us about you—us, the Joneses and the Prices. She said that you were going to form a new coven, and that you would change England. If your soon-to-be Dame allows, we would very much like to be a part of that."

Harry studied the two closely—their magic was Earth aligned, meaning Hufflepuffs when they were still in school. "What if you don't like how we change it?"

"Then we petition to join another Coven," Wilda Morgan said with an unconcerned shrug.

"Harry, the Morgans and Potters both come from the same region in Wales," Sybil said. "It was a toss-up between the Griffin Coven and the Lloyds for your great grandparents. It would be a very good thing to have an allied family close."

Though she did not speak it aloud, Harry realized she was telling them the Morgans were from Godric's Hollow. He turned to Luna, who smiled brilliantly before reaching out and taking Wilda's hand. "It would be an honour both personally, and for the coven we make today, to welcome you. We will post the banns for the joining and make oaths tomorrow, if that is acceptable?"

"More than acceptable, thank you," Wilda said. "And I have to say…it is truly a delight to meet you, Luna. I went to school with your father—he was a good man, and it is obvious from you that he did a marvellous job in difficult times."

"Thank you," Luna said, misty-eyed. After the couple left, Sybil smiled broadly. "One down. I'm working on the Jones family now. The Prices have already jumped to the Gallaghers, but the Morgan family was a major supporter of the Lloyds, and I think they can help us as well. Good job, both of you. So, from the argument still going on, I see you've managed to kick the doxy nest again. Amelia wanted to introduce you, but she's trying to play mediator again."

Harry shrugged, but Luna said, "Perhaps someone should tell Ginny we'll leave if her Dame insists on subjecting Harry to the ceremonial cleansing and spells. I think that would end any arguments quickly."

"I suspect you're right," Sybil said with a laugh. "I might do just that."

Luna's ploy worked. Even from the large linen closet, they could hear when Ginny waded into the battle. Whatever she said was sufficient, because a few moments later Georgina returned grinning so hard it looked as if her face was cramping. "You two ready?"

"No purification rituals, then?" Luna asked.

Georgina shook her head. "Nope, just the biggest showdown of Weasley witches since the great Edeena/Molly war of '86! It was both beautiful and terrifying. Come on, let's go."

The house by now was empty—Georgina led them through the cluttered kitchen to a spacious back porch and the grounds where the tent rose up. They could hear voices coming from inside—a lot of voices. However, rather than take them through the front, Georgina led them to a flap at the far end.

They slipped in so quietly that few in the tent realized they were there. Molly stood at the front of the tent next to old Augusta Longbottom, who wore her formal Sabbat robes as the attending Dame to perform the ceremony. She saw Harry and Luna and raised one brow. "You two have been busy," she noted dryly.

Luna curtseyed and Harry bobbed his head. "Yes, Dame Augusta," Harry said. "How has Neville been?"

"Busy with whatever task you've appointed to him and those lovely girls of his," Augusta said. "In fact, I understand most of your friends have been quite busy for the past few days."

Harry smiled at her and nodded. He and Luna turned at the sound of music—Handel, if Hermione's lessons in classical music were any indication. The flaps opened and Arthur Weasley stepped into the tent with Ginevra Weasley on his arm.

Looking at her objectively, without the history, Harry had to admit that Ginny was a very attractive young woman. In fact, from a purely physical standpoint she was much prettier than Luna or Tori, and cute in a way that Hermione's strength and determination undermined for herself. Harry knew just from a glance that she was magically a very strong witch as well—stronger than all of her sisters save perhaps Charlene, though of course her brothers were much stronger still. The disparity of magic between wizards and witches was the source of much of their frustration, in fact.

If only they didn't have the history they did.

Ginny looked right at him, her face pale with nervousness. She walked in a slow, stately march as much not to trip in her ornate white dress as anything. The fabric was cotton, and thick. Her long, red curls were bound up in an ornate pattern behind her Hecate crown that all witches wore on their wedding day.

Arthur left her at Harry's side before Dame Augusta, who was officiating as the most senior Dame present. As Augusta spoke of a merging of families and magic, Ginny looked intently at Harry and Luna both. When the time came, Luna and Ginny spoke the vows, since as First Wife it was Luna who admitted Ginny into the family. When the vows were finished, Augusta said, "You may now retire to the bridal chamber to complete the bonding. Afterward, the Dames present will assemble for a quorum Light Sabbat."

Luna ignored her, stepped to Ginny and said, "Don't let us regret this, Ginny." She then kissed the equally petite girl while staring into her eyes. Harry could see the bond he and Luna share open with her new bond to Ginny. When Luna retreated from Ginny, Harry stepped forward, locked eyes with her, and pushed his magic into her even as he too kissed her.

Ginny sighed, closed her eyes, and then promptly fainted. Harry caught her and let her down gently while Molly cried in alarm. Luna, though, looked to Dame Augusta and said, "Thank you, however the bonding is now complete. In the interest of time, it might be advisable to call the circle now."

The unflappable old witch was now staring with a gaping jaw, while Molly fanned at Ginny's pale face. The girl's eyelashes fluttered and she looked up at Harry—instantly her cheeks bloomed red. "Wow," she whispered.

Molly stared at her blushing daughter lying in her arms, and then at Harry. "What…what…you can't have bonded already!"

"Remember Lily and James?" Amelia said from the front row of seats. "Bonded at a glance. Don't forget that Harry is a visual/tactile Aether just like his mother was. Just to be sure, though…" She flicked her wand, and the whole tent could see a tether of magic between Ginny's core and Harry's. "The bond is there—Mr Potter has successfully taken a fourth wife."

"Then I agree, time is of the essence," Augusta said, quickly overcoming her surprise and speaking in her normal, unflappable tone. "Dames and Elders of the covens, come forward. All others, please excuse us."

Harry stood up and helped a still swooning Ginny to her feet. "Was it like that for Tori?" the petite redhead asked.

"She was beaten, starved and assaulted beforehand, and her sister tried to kill her," Harry said.

Ginny blanched, but straightened a little in his arm. "I always wondered. She looked so unhappy."

Around them, old wizards and witches gathered. Harry was surprised to see the couple he noticed earlier dressed in traditional Indian robes. It was Luna who curtseyed and greeted them. "Elder Ganapati, Dame Aahuti, it is an honour to meet you. I was told you were allied with the Dark Sabbat."

The founding couple of the Patil Coven—the youngest coven before Harry—nodded in return to Luna. "We recently came into information that convinced us to reconsider," Elder Ganapati said.

Harry saw another witch he didn't recognize, though her heart-shaped face looked faintly familiar. She actually stepped forward and hugged him. "You don't know me, Harry, but I am your cousin Andromeda. I understand it is because of you that Uncle Alphard has recovered from his illness."

"I had some help, mainly from Tori," Harry said.

Andromeda nodded—she reminded him a great deal of her daughter Tonks. To the dames and elders around her, Andromeda said, "I am here as proxy dame to the Black Coven—both Marchetta Black and Cassandra Greengrass have taken ill. Though the Black Coven is not light, nor aspires to be, we acknowledge a debt to Harry Potter and a kinship to him by his own blood, and the contracted bonding of his second wife. For this we give our support to his declaration."

She stepped back to the impromptu circle that formed. Augusta as elder witch took charge. "Let this circle be joined for common cause. The greater Sabbat has been broken and the Dark Covens have gained a quorum through murder, treason and conspiracy. With the glad addition of the Patil Coven, we now number nine covens. However, with the voice of the Black Covens this is a true Quorum as defined by tradition and law. Before this Sabbat and its Elders stands Harry James Potter and his First Wife Luna Potter, having successfully bonded a fourth wife to his magic and bed. Is it your wish to declare coven, Harry James Potter?"

"It is my wish," Harry intoned, using the words Amelia drilled into him the previous night.

"Luna Potter, previously Luna No-Name; are you a witch of magical lineage?"

"I am," Luna said clearly, though her young voice sounded odd in such august company. "I can trace my ancestry in an unbroken line for one hundred generations."

Harry noticed that did get some response.

August merely nodded. "Do you understand the responsibility and duty to you as First Wife should your bonded declare Coven?"

"I do."

"Do you accept this responsibility?"

"I do. Know that should the declaration be affirmed by this body, I will seek a proxy to serve in my stead until I reach my seventeenth year. Even after that, I will not serve as Dame in a vacuum, but will heed all good suggestions and advice from those I trust."

"As will I," Harry said.

Evidently those were the right words to say. Not all of the witches gathered looked particularly pleased at such a young dame or elder. Augusta looked about the small circle. "Know that I have been acquainted with Mr Potter for some few years now, his being a friend and roommate of my own descendent and the heir to my own coven, Neville. I have found Mr Potter to be a wizard of high morals and courage. While this has not always served him well, I believe in what must be done he is truly our best hope. I affirm his declaration of coven."

"I also affirm his declaration," Molly Weasley said. One by one, the other dames also affirmed Harry's coven. When done, August nodded and said, "By magic and tradition, let all know that a new coven has been born. Potter Coven, what is your alignment?"

"We are Light Progressive," Luna said.

"Who shall you name as your Proxy Dame?"

"Upon her oaths to my coven and the posting of banns, I intend to name Amelia Bones," Luna said.

Augusta was just barely able to hide her smile. "I see. And Elder Potter, who would you name as your Proxy?"

"Honestly, I will have to research that and get back to you. Given the lack of a functioning Wizengamot, it does not appear to be as urgent."

"Indeed," August said. "Then let me welcome you as the newest coven of the realm."

With that, the formality ended. Harry found himself greeting the light leaders of England in a long line of names he knew only because of recent study sessions with Sybil. The Weasleys and Croaker covens he knew, of course. Although he had never met the Patils, he knew two of their daughters at Hogwarts. There was Ebenezer Starling and his surviving second wife Cassandra Marches of the Starling Coven, Charleston and Melinda Brant of the Brants, Dennis and Sallifred MacDonald, Sean and Deena Gallagher, Daniel and Elizabeth Morris, and finally Harold and Patricia Sanford. With the exception of the Weasleys and Aahuti Patil, who was easily forty years younger than her husband, all of the Dames and Elders were past the century mark, and some like Augusta were over two centuries easily.

Harry and Luna were quite literally infants next to such venerable witches and wizards. Nor did Harry miss some of the looks Luna was receiving from the older witches. He remembered what Luna had to go through to have her fertility restored and tried not to shudder. Though they were fighting against the Dark Sabbat, many of the witches who watched Luna suffer stood around them at that very moment.

They moved on, and as the festivities progressed and they drifted from one conversation to another Harry was struck by how indecisive most of the Dames and Elders sounded. They talked worriedly about what happened to the Lloyds, and petitioning the ICW now that they could claim they had a quorum, but never once did one of them actually talk about _defending_ themselves with force.

They were only able to mingle for half an hour, though, before Harry began to feel the tingle and discomfort of an unconsummated bond. He searched for and found Ginny on the edge of the crowd, surrounded by her sisters. She was flushed bright red, and her brown eyes were tracking his every move.

"Go," Amelia Bones said, appearing at his side as if by magic. "I'll make your excuses."

Luna took Harry's hand and led him to the cluster of red-heads. Ginny stood to meet them while Charlene and Georgina grinned expectantly. "That was some show, there, Potter," Charlene said in a voice that dripped patronizing sarcasm. "Bonding at a glance. That's going to be a legend, I tell you."

"Charlie, shut up," Ginny said, though she did not look away from Harry as she spoke.

"I'm just saying…" Charlene said.

"And I'm just saying shut up." She stepped toward Harry and Luna, gazing intently at them both. "I know I've bolloxed things up before," she told them softly. "But I promise I won't again."

Harry reached up and cupped her cheek, genuinely touched by her sincerity. He did not mean to take a read on her, but when it happened he wasn't surprised. "I know you won't," he said, even as a touch of blood ran down his lip from his nose. "I know you won't, Ginny. Let's go home."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Drunkenness was a new experience for Hermione. With the majority of a bottle of brandy in her stomach, it was not so shocking to learn that drunkenness was not new at all to Tori. "I used to sneak Mum's firewhisky all the time," Tori said. "Helped, you know. 'Specially that first time, when she gave me away."

"You're mum's a horrid cow."

"A sleeping cow, now!"

For some reason, that was the funniest thing Hermione had heard in forever, and the two girls laughed uproariously for several minutes in the living room of Potter Cottage. When the laughter died, Hermione said, "I want a telly. I miss my movies over the summer."

Of course, she then had to explain what movies were to Tori, who was fascinated at the idea of a portrait that played out novels. "It's like getting the story without having to read!" the younger girl said enthusiastically.

Hermione snorted laughter again. Of course Tori would love anything that entertained her without requiring her to read. However, before she could say more she heard a sudden rush of air—not a pop, but the peculiar displacement of air that marked Harry's and Luna's method of apparition. She stood up, swaying, and watched as Harry, Luna and a furiously blushing Ginny walked into the house.

"So it's done?" Hermione asked. She didn't slur her words at all, she thought proudly.

"It's done," Luna said. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Tori thought this was funny and laughed until she fell off the couch.

Ginny, blanching in front of her nemesis, took a hesitant step to Hermione. "I just…I wanted to say again that I'm sorry for what happened at the end of the Quidditch Championship. I would never have told if I knew, and I'll never do anything like that again. I promise."

Hermione smiled, and then suddenly punched Ginny across the jaw. Unfortunately, because they now shared a bond through both Harry and Luna (something other wives never had to worry about), her own magic recoiled and she fell over the back of the couch and landed by a still laughing Tori even as Ginny stumbled back into Harry's arms with a cry. Rather than just passively take the blow, however, Ginny blushed this time with anger, pulled her wand from the sleeve of her dress, and rushed forward to find Hermione still on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with a bruise on her chin that matched Ginny's.

Tori was laughing so hard she was gasping for air.

"I forgive you," Hermione said before closing her eyes and going to sleep.

"Welcome to the family," Luna said with a strained smile.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	9. Not to Plan

A/N: Chap 8 review responses in my forums as usual. Chapter 9 is not a long chapter, nor particularly exciting, but it is necessary.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Not to Plan**

_Harry watched as Amelia Bones and Voldemort faced off against each other over the chess board. Around them stood a ring of the dead—from Harry's parents to the still weeping, terribly young visage of Demelza Robbins. _

"_I didn't survive the first goblin," she told Harry in an empty voice, though her face was held in a permanent expression of horror and pain._

_On the board itself, Amelia's white knight stood alone and exposed on the board while her king cowered in a corner and the queen stood tall and protected behind a line of pawns. Voldemort's black queen was already out from behind the pawns, and with long, pale fingers he positioned it to threaten the knight._

_Instead of moving the knight, though, Amelia moved the pawn from in front of the king. _

"_What are you doing?" Harry shouted with alarm._

_Amelia turned and faced him with eyes as dead as the corpses around them. "If you don't sit at the table, you can't play the game."_

_And then the girl came, tugging at his pants. "Do you know..?"_

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

On the second Saturday of July, one week and a day after Harry and Luna accepted Ginny as their fourth bride and declared Coven, a delegation of ancient, powerful witches and wizards arrived in the central atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

They stepped out of the many fireplaces that lined the centre of the atrium and were immediately met by the representatives of the new Ministry of Magic.

For Delia Griffin, it was a day of triumph—a realization of a dream she'd held close to her heart for many decades. She wore the black robes of the Sabbat, as did Elezeta Malfoy to her left, and Dolores Umbridge to her right. Pius Thicknesse, suitably bonded and controlled by fear and greed, was there as well. There was no need to place the man under the _Imperius_ Curse. He was so terrified of Delia's secret weapon, and so grateful to be alive, that he happily played the part he was assigned for the day.

Dolores, as the Sabbat representative for the United Kingdom, stepped forward first to meet the delegation. "Dame Parvanov!" she said with her best smile. She hugged the wide-shouldered witch with the long nose who led the delegation. "Welcome to the United Kingdom, and, may I say, what a pleasure it is to have you here!"

"The pleasure is all mine," Evdokiya Parvanov, Dame Representative of Bulgaria, said in return. "May I present my colleagues, Dame Donia Ionescu and Elder Nicolae Ghita of Romania, and Jan and Maria Baderhoff of Greater Germany?"

"An honour," Umbridge said. "May I present Dames Elezeta Malfoy and Delia Griffin, and our former Minister for Magic, Pius Thicknesse, whom you know from the ICW?"

Delia and Elezeta curtsied, while Thicknesse bowed. "Ahh, Pius," Nicolae Ghita said. "Good to see you again!"

"And you, my friend," Pius said. Delia was pleased the buffoon played his part and did not simper, whine or otherwise show his fear. "It's an honour to have you here. This new Ministry we've created is something else. A true inspiration."

Umbridge and Pius did the talking, of course. Delia always preferred the role kingmaker than king. Instead, she sat behind a metaphorical throne, speaking into the ears of her puppets. Umbridge was a believer, and valuable for that, but otherwise was a fool. Pius was smarter than many gave him credit for, but was at heart a coward. And Elezeta—Elezeta was Voldemort's tool. For this reason, Delia treated the woman with outward respect while hiding her disdain deep inside. For any witch to give herself so wholly to a man was unconscionable. Sex was one thing, but devotion quite another.

The tour continued through the sanitized Ministry. People still went about their business—the wheels of the Ministry ground on despite the change at the top. The difference, of course, was the slow weeding of all the Muggleborn. Unfortunately, there were not many actually in the Ministry outside of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which traditionally employed Muggleborns since it had such a high incidence of accidental death and dismemberment. And those Muggleborn had left when the Dark Sabbat took over.

Still, they managed to find enough to at least ensure the temporary cooperation of the goblins. The DMLE as such no longer existed; order was maintained by the Sabbat's hit witches alone. And the last historical remnant of wizard dominance, which teetered through the centuries like a drunken, bumbling fool, was at last swept away.

"…on the Brazilian model," Dolores was telling the delegation. "They never established a Wizengamot at all, but rather eliminated the steps between the administration of laws and their Sabbat to great effect. We studied our sisters' approach in Brazil for several years before deciding to adopt it here. We anticipate a realized savings of nearly four hundred thousand Galleons annually from the change."

Dolores led them into a conference room filled with food, wine and other delicacies. As they settled around the table, elves began to serve them invisibly. "It is an impressive feat, switching governing models as you have," Evdokiya Parvanov said. "But you must know that our presence here is not solely to tour your ministry."

"Yes, we're aware of our opposition," Dolores said with a frown. "Poor losers, they."

"They claim to have a quorum," Dame Donia said. Beside her, her husband Nicolae Ghita nodded. Donia was his third wife, since he was the founder of his own coven. However, the elder two wives had already died and he was considered too old to take any more. "If this is true, then by international law and custom we must give them a hearing."

Delia, realizing she could no longer sit on the side-lines at this delicate stage, leaned forward and gave a silent signal to Dolores to let her take the lead. "Are you aware of whom their tenth coven was founded by?"

"No," Parvanov admitted. "I take it you do?"

"It was founded by a boy, madam. He is not yet even sixteen."

"Potter," Dame Donia guessed. "Harry Potter has formed a coven?"

"Yes," Delia said. "He has taken a fourth bride and declared coven. Due to treachery from two of our covens, ten covens confirmed his declaration. However, it begs the question of how a fifteen-year-old boy who has not fully matured into his magic could handle four bonds."

The international representatives sat in silence, unwilling to voice any suspicions. It was Elezeta Malfoy who spoke. "The boy recovered his memories from his stay with the Apostate Ollivander in the Western Confederation of America, if in fact he ever lost them. Our former head of law enforcement has turned traitor to us all."

Evdokiya turned to the two men, Ghita and Jan Baderhoff, and said, "Gentle wizards, may we have a moment?"

The two ICW elders nodded without protest and left the room, knowing very well where the true authority rested. When they were alone, Evdokiya said, "You're suggesting the Potter boy is using a male wand?"

"We're more than suggesting it," Delia said. "This last June, on the day that Dumbledore died, Potter was already bonded to three witches. And he still managed to kill seven hitwitches. Since that time, he and his followers have killed another ten. While the Light Covens sue for peace through the ICW, Potter has been committing acts of terror against law-abiding hit witches. For him to wield that much power after a third bonding is inconceivable, unless…"

"Unless he wields a male wand," Dame Donia finished. "This is a grave issue, ladies. If he is using a male wand, and if his followers are also using such wands, then he presents a threat not just to the United Kingdom, but to all of Europe."

"Which is why we do not feel it would be prudent to give into the Light Sabbat's demands for parley," Dame Elezeta said smoothly. "If Potter and his followers were to attack during the parley, all our lives would be endangered. The Light has allied themselves with a Dark Lord even more dangerous than Voldemort."

"Speaking of, what is the news of that situation?" Evdokiya asked pointedly.

"His followers are almost all gone," Elezeta lied, again so smoothly there was no trace of deception audible. "He loses power almost daily as those who previously supported him have come to adopt the new Ministry's credo. Attacks have almost come to a stop since June, I'm proud to say. Instead, this Potter has become the true dark lord."

"Do you have any proof?" Maria Baderhoff of Greater Germany asked. "Before we declare Potter an apostate, do you have any proof?"

Delia and Elezeta shared a look; this was it. Delia carefully removed a folder from her robes. "This contains testimony obtained by our sisters in the Eastern Confederation of America from a Muggle spy they captured. The woman helped smuggle Potter and his Dame to the Americas, and when he came back, she carried vials of their stored memories separately to Britain. The testimony has been verified by the American EastCon Sabbat, whom you may contact at your convenience."

"The Muggle?" Evdokiya asked as she looked through the pages of confession.

"Dead, of course," Elezeta said. "Along with the leadership of her organization that dared interfere in our affairs. Our American sisters were quite thorough."

"Good," the Bulgarian dame said. Her frown deepened in a continual arc as she read more and more of the report. In silence, she handed the report to Dame Donia, who in turn gave it to Dame Maria. When all three women finished the report, Evdokiya took the folder back.

"Something of this magnitude must be determined by the Covens Majeure in parley," she finally said. "But neither can it be neglected. I shall call an emergency parley. I trust you will be there, Dame Dolores?"

"Of course, my dear."

Evdokiya nodded and slipped the folder into her own robes. "This is a grave issue. If he is declared Apostate, then he and all those allied to him will be sentenced to death. The ICW and Covens will provide additional international enforcers to assist in carrying out that sentence."

"Such would be appreciated," Delia said. "We will, of course, cooperate in any way required of us."

"Very good," the Romanian dame said. "Thank you all for your hospitality. We have much work to do, so it is best if we leave soon."

"Of course. Let us show you out…"

Delia fought to contain her satisfied smile as they walked the delegation out. Everything was proceeding exactly as she had hoped. And soon they would repair the accidental magic monitors that the traitor Moody destroyed when the old Ministry fell. And when that happened, the true cleansing of England would begin.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Hermione and Ginny arrived at a mutually convenient balance to their relationship—they avoided each other like the plague. Hermione spent every day at the former residence of Regula Black, renamed the Potter Covenstead, while Ginny stayed in Potter Cottage during her ten day bonding period with Harry.

Harry learned a lot about Ginny in those ten days. First and foremost, she snored—loudly. She blushed self-consciously when Tori complained about listening to it through the walls of her room with her usual tact and tried to explain that she'd had a broom accident as a little girl and never had her nose treated because she was afraid her parents would find out about her sneaking out in the first place.

Second, she could cook. She cooked so well, in fact, that Luna and Tori both gave up any pretence of trying to help. Ginny knew every domestic charm there was, and had four-course meals cooking all at once with the help of magic and experience.

"Do you like cooking, then?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Mum said it's what second…or fourth, I guess…wives are supposed to do. I don't mind, really. Mum made sure I knew how to be a good wife. Third daughter, and all that."

Perhaps it was the bonding that made him say it, but Harry said, "You're the most beautiful of all the Weasleys, you know."

"Yeah," she said without a hint of modesty. "But that's not saying much, really. Charlene looks like a cow, and acts like one too. She's the family hit witch, after all. And Georgina…sometimes I think she should have been a boy."

And he learned that, fourth wife or not, Ginny was raised by example to be the boss. At first it was little things—such as the cooking. Luna was not naturally an aggressive person, and gave in easily enough to these little things at first. But then it moved into larger things, until eventually Luna and Hermione had no choice but to address the issue.

On the ninth day, Tori came by asking to join Ginny and Harry one night.

"What?" Ginny asked, glaring at the shorter girl. "You want to…Tori, I don't do that. The idea is disgusting. This is my bonding period and I'm not going to…do whatever it is you think I'm going to do. Just go away."

"Fine, bitch," Tori snapped, true to form as always.

Ginny slapped her, hard. Of course, their mutual bonds rebounded the blow so that Ginny felt it, but she did not even wince. The problem was that Tori did not either. Harry walked out of the bathroom in his night robe and saw the two girls rolling around on the floor fighting each other with a viciousness that left him stunned, especially when the clothes started being torn off.

Luna stumbled into the room and said, "What's going on?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know."

With a shaky breath, Luna pulled her wand from behind her ear and cast a pair of low-level stingers at each girl. Both of them spun away and jumped to their feet with murder in their eyes. Unfortunately, that anger was now directed right at Luna.

"Oh you did not just do that," Ginny snarled. "You didn't just sting me, you…you…"

"I think the word you're looking for is Dame," a new voice said. Hermione stepped into the room, and Harry felt a brief, irrational surge of hope and relief at her presence. "Luna is your Dame, Ginny. She is the first wife. You are the fourth. Every one of us outranks you, and this poppycock is going to end now."

"Yeah!" Tori said. "Stop telling me what to wear or say!"

"Tori, love, please be quiet," Luna said tiredly.

"Okay," Tori said, though she continued to glare at Ginny.

Ginny took a few steps back until she sat on the edge of the bed. Like Harry, she wore nothing but a night robe, a now torn one at that. She stared first at Luna's firm face, then Hermione's cold one, and finally at Tori's glare. "You all hate me," she said. Her eyes began to redden with tears. "You all hate me, just like Charlene said you would. I was just trying to be a good wife! I knew you'd hate me."

"First off, only I hate you," Hermione said.

"I hate her too," Tori said.

"No, you just want to sleep with her," Luna said. "And you're mad she said no."

Tori crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, but didn't deny it. Meanwhile, Ginny looked imploringly at Harry. "Do you hate me too, then?"

"We're still bonding, I couldn't if I wanted to," Harry said. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. She leaned into him, and he didn't try to stop her. "Thing is, Ginny, Luna is the First Wife. She's had to share me with you because of politics and prophecy, but she's still first. Hermione offered to bond with me fourth year because she genuinely wanted help me. Tori we saved from a terrible situation. We all had reasons for joining this coven, Ginny. What's yours?"

"My mum said we should," Ginny said, as if that was enough.

"When was that?" Luna asked the question, but sounded as if she knew the answer.

"All my life," Ginny admitted. "She raised me to be the First Wife. She knew that if I was pretty and smart and powerful enough, I could bond you even if I was younger. She taught me all the sex charms and how to brew love potions and everything. We were going to bond and I was going to be the dame of your new coven. This was how I was raised. I just…I don't think anyone ever thought it would be Luna. She was proscribed."

"She was prophesized to be my first," Harry said softly. "My mum told me I would bond with an Aether. It was a glance…that's all it took for us. Ginny, I don't know what kind of bond your parents have, but I really do love Luna. I never realized how empty my life was until she became a part of it. I would have been happy just with the two of us."

"But?"

"But the Covens had other ideas," Hermione said. "So I joined them. And it was hard, Ginny. Luna and I were never close friends. The only thing that kept us civil for the most part was Justine."

"And love potions," Harry added with a wry smile.

"And Tori?" Ginny asked.

"Narcissa Black told me if I bonded with a Greengrass, it might convince the Covens to…to restore Luna so she could have children."

Ginny blinked and looked back at Luna in surprise. "Oh." It was obvious she knew what was involved in that. "But why Tori?"

"It was a trick," Hermione said. "Daphne would have murdered Luna and me the moment we bonded, and then Harry would be firmly under the control of the Dark Covens. Harry used his divination skills to see what they planned, and we chose Tori instead. And for all that she's a brat, she grows on you."

Ginny sniffed. "So you don't all hate me?"

"If you keep acting like you're the first wife, we might," Luna said. "If this is going to work, Ginny, you need to be a part of the family, not the head of it."

"I'll try. I really will. I want it to work. I want to be a good witch!"

Harry put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. Sensing her raging magic, he reached over and placed a hand over her core, calming it with a touch. "It won't always be perfect," Harry said. "Just try, okay?"

She closed her eyes at the touch of her magic. "Yeah," she breathed.

Harry looked back to Hermione and smiled. "I've missed you. Are you back for good?"

Hermione stared at Ginny's half-open robe, then Harry's arm around her shoulders. "Not just yet," she said. "But my night should be coming up soon, and I want it. I really just came by because of something Sybil told me today. The ICW delegation toured the Ministry yesterday and then left and called a parley for the Covens Majeure. They did not even let the Light Sabbat speak to them while they were here. Sybil said Amelia is really worried."

Luna frowned. "That's not what they were counting on. The rules said both competing Sabbats should have had equal time with the observers. Something's wrong."

"Did Amelia tell us to do anything?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione said. "In fact, I'm not sure she wanted us to know at all. Now that she's your Proxy Dame, she's been taking the lead with the Light Sabbat openly. If not for Sybil, I don't think we would have found out at all."

"Not surprising," Luna said. She stifled a yawn. "Well, we might as well let these two enjoy their last night of the bonding."

"But…" Tori began.

"You can stay with me, Tori," Luna said. "I've been lonely too."

"Okay," Tori said, instantly brightening. She skipped across the room to Luna's arms, and the two young witches left the room. Hermione lingered a moment, staring at the still blushing Ginny and the worried Harry.

"I don't hate you, Ginny," she finally said. "I hate the covens for killing my best friend. I hate the covens for hurting Luna so badly—not just as a child, but last year when they restored her. Your mum was there, so you probably know. I hate this society. But I don't hate you. But I'll tell you this—if you ever betray this family, I won't just hate you. I'll kill you, even if the bond kills me in the process."

The threat was delivered with a flat, emotionless intensity that left Ginny's eyes wide in alarm. She did not get a chance to respond before Hermione turned and left the room. When they were alone, she turned to Harry and said, "Are you going to just let her threaten me like that?"

Harry shrugged. "Ginny, if you ever betrayed the family, I doubt I'd be alive to stop her."

"But…but…"

Harry stopped her protest with an intense, hungry kiss. The rest of their last night of bonding went by in a blur after that.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


	10. The August War

A/N: This chapter brings us back to the events of Chapter 1. Foreword ho! Review responses are in my forums as normal. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter Ten: The August War**

With a little girl's voice ringing in his ear, Harry woke earlier than he wanted and realized with a sense of melancholy that the bonding period had ended.

He looked over at Ginny sleeping beside him. Her brows had furrowed slightly in her sleep—she too felt the end of the bonding period. Harry knew from bitter experience that the morning after the bonding period ended was uncomfortable at best. So, rather than risk another fight, he left the house entirely and went to Potter Covenstead before Ginny even woke up. As part of the dowry of his taking Ginny to bride, the other Weasleys all agreed to help with the restoration of the home. Materials were purchased from Muggle suppliers using money gained by selling de-charmed gold Galleons.

Despite the early hour, the house was swarming with workers.

Harry did not realize initially that when the wedding contract specified the Weasley Coven would help, that meant the entire coven. Almost a hundred witches and wizards were hard at work on the covenstead when he arrived. With the Weasleys came the coven's two client families, the Prewitts and Darlings, and all the branches associated with them. He began to understand for the first time just what it meant when people spoke of the Weasleys having political power because of all the children they bred. Dame Molly and Elder Arthur commanded a virtual army.

He found Hermione on the second floor, directing the restoration of the family suite, which consisted of a master and four smaller bedrooms to provide each of them their own private living space. The master suite was not particularly large, but then again Harry supposed it didn't really need to be. He knew he'd be sharing it, so in a real sense he was the only one not to have his own private living space.

Fortunately, she was working with the Quarts, as everyone called Angelina, Fred, Georgina and Lee. With them was an older cousin Harry had never met, but who evidently was very good at restoration charms.

"This is amazing," Harry said as he joined her. "I can't believe how much you've all done."

"Well, we've had a lot of help and spent a lot of your money," Hermione noted. She pointed to where Lee and Georgina's painting job had turned into a duel. "Despite that, things are getting done. Come on." She took his hand and led him out of the master and adjoined rooms. "The library and office is going to be up here, along with several rooms for later expansion."

"Expansion?"

Hermione blushed. "At some point we're going to start having kids, Harry. It's just a matter of time before Tori manages to switch the birth control potion and we don't catch her. I think we should wait for a few years, but it's going to happen eventually. We might as well plan for it now."

Harry blushed too, and was thankful for the fact that Hermione agreed they should all wait. The idea of being a daddy was almost as terrifying to him than Voldemort.

She led him into one of the rooms. The floor was covered in a grey Berber carpet and the walls were covered in new white plaster. When they were alone, Hermione closed the door and charmed it shut. She turned to him and looked up with brown eyes brimming. "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch this summer, Harry. I know I've been making you miserable."

"That's not you, love," Harry said. "Believe me, everything else has been making me miserable, not you. I miss her too."

Hermione bowed her head against his chest. "Is the bonding over?"

"Yeah, ended this morning."

"How are you?"

"Fourth time's a charm. The buzz is gone and everything is back to normal."

"And Ginny?"

"I left before she woke up."

Hermione nodded. Then, without preamble, she said, "Harry, will you make love to me? Like you did before everything fell apart?"

Leaning down, Harry kissed her gently. "Hermione, I love you too, you know. I know we don't say it much, but I do. You're beautiful, and incredible, and I'm a teenaged boy, so of course I want to make love to you."

Hermione chuckled, and then laughed freely for the first time that summer before kissing him. "I've missed you, Harry."

Before they could say anything else, Sybil Trelawney burst into the room with the Hogwarts student scroll in his hand. "Harry, we have a new problem!"

Hermione sighed, but Harry just turned and looked at the woman. "Yes?"

"We have spies at Hogwarts and the Ministry," Sybil said. "The Dark Sabbat pulled in several Hogwarts professors to help repair the ward matrix the DMLE used to detect accidental magic in un-warded areas."

Hermione blinked. "What happened to it?"

"Standing orders from Dumbledore to the Order was that if the Ministry ever fell, it was to be destroyed," Sybil said. "Tonks told me Moody did it right before he died. They fixed it, and are actively monitoring accidental magic. As soon as a new student shows up on this scroll, the Ministry will know who and where they are as well."

"Oh Morgana!" Hermione whispered. "What are we going to do?"

Harry, though, merely nodded to Sybil. "We're going to save them. All of them."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Thinking of the difficulties they had earlier that summer when they lost Demelza Robbins, and almost lost the Creevey sisters, Harry went into overdrive trying to organize retrieval teams to save any newly identified Muggleborns. He _Floo-_called all his friends involved from the first round of retrievals, briefed everyone on what was happening and asked if they would help, and when they agreed, he settled down in front of the Hogwarts Scroll to wait for the first names to appear.

Two long, boring days later, he realized that things were, once again, not going to work out exactly as he expected or wanted.

The DMLE used a massive network of ward stones throughout England to detect accidental magic, which because it was not funnelled through a wand had a dispersive effect that was easily distinguished from wanded, intent-driven magic. Moody would never have been able to destroy the ward stones themselves. Instead, with his last breath he destroyed the runic array which was able to receive and interpret the magic from those stones.

While the Order of the Phoenix did not have access to that network, it had an artefact dating back a thousand years, created by some of the most brilliant magical minds to ever breathe in England. With everything set up, it was only a matter of time. A lot of time.

An amused Sybil Trelawney said: "Considering the small number of Muggleborn, it's not surprising we wouldn't have a huge swarm of them all at once. Chances are that the names will come in one at a time, over the course of weeks and months. From what Filius told me, they often appear in clumps, right around school's starting, or after a large sporting event. There was a record number that appeared when Charles and Diana married."

Harry looked around at the much smaller circle of friends who remained following the long wait—namely Hermione, Neville and his two wives, and the Weasleys. "What do you guys think?"

"We should use the Army coins," Hermione suggested. "We've had a lot of time to talk about what we do if we see a name. We sneak in, grab the family, and _Apparate_ here in a four-person team. No one who doesn't know how to _Apparate_ goes." Hermione seemed pleased that, among the lessons Sybil provided to the younger order members was _Apparition_ training.

Georgina yawned and stretched. "Yeah, sitting around all day stinks. Maybe we take shifts watching the scroll?"

As the days continued on, they settled down, taking shifts to watch the scroll in teams of four people, with at least one of the four always being an adult. Sometimes they would take the scroll with them down to the large cellar which Professor Flitwick and a horde of Weasleys converted into a duelling room/Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and practised with Tonks overseeing their progress.

Things settled quickly into a routine again; the Light Covens with Amelia in their midst continued their efforts to get acknowledged by the ICW, or at least be seen, while Professor Flitwick continued teaching those Muggleborns they already saved.

It was late on Tuesday night, as Harry was about to finish his shift, when a name suddenly appeared on the scroll. At first, he did not even notice it. He'd taken to glancing at the scroll occasionally, but the scroll itself was a huge roll they only left partially undone at the end. So when the name of Linda Peterson appeared, Harry did not immediately notice. It wasn't until Angelina came into take her shift and he started to hand the scroll over that he saw.

"Merlin, there's a name!" he shouted, overcome by the realization of an event he had begun to subconsciously think would never happen.

Angelina saw it too, eyes widening in surprise. The two friends looked at each other for a moment in mutual surprise before they both turned and ran up the stairs from the duelling room. "Sybil!" Harry cried as they burst onto the ground floor of the manor. With the late hour, the younger kids were already asleep in their rooms on the second floor, while Flitwick was in his office and a few of the older Muggleborns sat around a table in the kitchen. Sybil sat with them, sipping firewhisky while talking to Tina Middleton, the former Greengrass slave. Tina still looked too thin, and carried with her a haunted look in her eyes, but she was eating better at least.

All of them looked up when Harry and Angelina burst into their midst. "We have one!" Harry said, holding up the school. He ran to the table they were gathered around and laid it out before her. There they saw the new line: Linda Peterson, Age 9, Hogwarts First Year Class of 1998. Second bedroom, 13 Hargate Way, Peterborough.

Sybil looked around the table. "Terri, you up to joining us?"

Terri Boot gave a determined nod. "You bet! I even know how to _Apparate_ now!"

"That makes four of us," Sybil said. "Maybe we can sneak in before they even know we're there. Come on, I'll make the Portkey for us."

Minutes later, the four of them—Sybil, Harry, Angelina and Terri Boot—appeared on the edge of a nice greenway between rows of two-story homes. The moment they landed, Harry bent over and spun around from the others fighting back an urge to be sick.

"Not the time, Potter!" Angelina said.

"You just don't want him puking on you again," Terri snickered.

Harry stood up and took a deep breath without being sick. "Laugh it up," he muttered.

He turned to Trelawney and said, accusingly, "How come it doesn't make you sick?"

Sybil smiled. "I'm drunk, of course. Remember, high-functioning alcoholic." She looked over the row of comfortable brick houses. "There's number 13. Let me do the talking, okay? And keep an eye-out for wards or hitwitches."

She started to walk across the street but stopped and looked back at the four of them. With a blink of an eye, she suddenly looked completely different. Her pale skin and brilliant eyes shifted to a more Muggle skin tone while her eyes lost their vibrancy. "Veils," she reminded them.

Harry blinked in surprise at having forgotten. Since returning from America last September, he'd not once used his Veil and didn't even think about it. But, looking at his companions, he tried to see them through a Muggle's eyes. Angelina's dark skin had a shiny, almost plastic quality not found in normal Muggles, while he, Terri and Sybil were all deathly pale. In the night lit only by occasional streetlamps, their eyes all shone brightly with their magic.

In the blink of an eye, all four of them looked perfectly mundane. Thus Veiled, they continued on to Number 13 Hargate Way. They could see lights coming from both floors. With a last look back at the three teens, Sybil knocked on the door.

A moment later, a tall man with a receding hairline and expanding paunch dressed in slacks and a button-up opened the door. "Yes?" he asked, obviously curious at the odd collection.

"Hello, Mr Peterson," Sybil said with her most gracious smile, which most would describe as a smirk. "My name is Professor Sybil Trelawney. I represent a school for gifted children. These are some of my older students. We were hoping to speak to you a moment regarding your daughter Linda."

Harry felt a pang when he noticed the man instantly become defensive, and Harry suddenly realized that whatever event of accidental magic that made the daughter appear on the scroll had obviously disturbed her parents. "We don't know anything about it! Good bye."

As the man started to shut the door, Harry heard a distinctive pop in the distance, followed by three more. He and Angelina shared a glance, and before Mr Peterson could finish slamming the door the two rushed past Trelawney and into the home, taking Peterson down with them. Trelawney and Terri followed quickly and shut the door behind them.

"What is the meaning of this?" a heavy-set woman with dark hair demanded as she emerged from what was probably a kitchen.

"Terri, get the windows in front," Sybil ordered. "Angelina, go check the back."

Angelina scrambled to her feet and rushed past the stunned, frightened Mrs Peterson.

"Get out of my home!" Mr Peterson shouted.

"Mr Peterson," Sybil said, "right now there are at least four people outside your home who intend to kill you and your wife and abduct your daughter. We're here to try and save you."

Harry let Peterson up, but instead of gaping in wonder or shock, he sneered at Trelawney. "Bollocks! You're drunk, I can smell sherry on you!"

"So much for being a high-functioning alcoholic," Harry muttered.

"They're taking position in front," Terri reported.

"I have two back here," Angelina called from the kitchen.

"No wards or jinxes so far," Harry noted.

Trelawney nodded. "We don't have time. Take him. We can explain when no one is trying to kill us all."

"Now see here, I…" Peterson began. Harry grabbed the man and _Disapparated_ on the spot right to the ground floor of the manor.

Moments later, Angelina appeared with the mother, while Sybil arrived holding a startled, wide-eyed girl with dark, curly hair and shining brown eyes. Terri followed seconds later. Not surprisingly, Mr and Mrs Peterson were both violently sick from the unexpected magical teleportation.

When they recovered, Harry dropped his veil, brandished his wand, and vanished the sick from the floor. "Welcome to the Sanctuary School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said dryly. "Congratulations, your daughter is a witch."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

With their first successful rescue of a pre-Hogwarts Muggleborn witch, the whole Order celebrated by throwing an impromptu party for nine-year-old Linda Peterson. With their daughter as the centre of a crowd of children who had the same odd light in their eyes and the same pale skin as Linda, her parents had little choice but to admit the truth their own eyes presented.

After a few days, Remus Lupin escorted the Peterson parents back to their home where they found the house ransacked. Looking at the mess, Mr Peterson shook his head and said, "It's all true, isn't it?"

Remus nodded sadly. "I'm very sorry. We hope that when things settle down, you'll be able to see Linda again, but for everyone's safety, you'll need to leave her with us. I promise we'll take good care of her, and we'll let her write as often as she wants. Just don't be surprised by owls bearing letters."

Remus, because of his own hard life and upbringing, did not appreciate the true tragedy implicit in just how easily the Peterson's let their daughter go.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Over the next week, two more names appeared, and because a team was always on watch, they were able to get out to the family just moments before the hitwitches. In both cases, they were able to get the family out before any curses were cast. But then, toward the end of August, five names all appeared at once.

"Get everyone in," Harry said to Hermione, who was with him that day. "It's going to be a long day."

They drew straws, and Harry's group picked the Dibbles.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Later that night, after Shirley, Tom and Nancy Dibbles were settled into a wizarding tent on the ground floor along with the other recovered families, Harry walked up the stairs to the first floor and walked down the length of the manor until he reached what was supposed to be a library, but now served as their infirmary.

Healer Mary Carlisle lounged in a comfortable, conjured plush chair, her mouth open with a gentle snore as she slept off an exhausting night. Beside the bed that held her husband Fred, also sleeping exhaustedly, Angelina looked up and smiled tiredly at Harry.

He made his way over and took a look at mangled lump of Fred's ear. "Cartilaginous Potion," Angelina whispered. "Mary cut the whole thing off since it was curse-scarred, and we're re-growing it with potions and poultices."

"He'll be fine," Harry said.

"He was an idiot," she said, though not unkindly. She took the boy's hand in hers and stared at him intently. "He's not a fighter, he never was. He tries to keep up because of Georgina, but he's just not a fighter. He shouldn't have been out there. Hell, I shouldn't be either. I should be playing Quidditch, or shagging my husband or…" She stopped with a sigh. "This isn't right, Harry. What they're making us do."

Harry wished he could disagree, but he couldn't. "No it isn't," he said. "Amelia should have been out there with Emmeline Vance and Shacklebolt and all the other Order members I've never seen, but who I've been told exist. They should be out saving the Muggleborns, but they aren't. But there wasn't anyone else willing to do it."

Angelina nodded. If he didn't know her better, it would look as if she was a piece of stone, expressionlessly holding Fred's hand. But he knew from personal experience how upset she was. "I think tonight taught us something," he said softly. "We're not soldiers."

Snorting, Angelina said, "You just figured that out?"

"But we won anyway," Harry continued, pointedly staring back at her. "And because of us, five families are alive who would be dead. That's worth fighting for, Angie. At least for me."

Looking down at the sleeping form of her husband, Angelina said, "Me? I'll fight with you till everything falls apart. You forgave me after I almost killed you, back first year when I didn't understand what bonding meant. But Fred…"

"I understand," Harry said. "Hang in there, okay?"

She gave a heart-felt nod and then slipped deeply back into her own thoughts. Harry made his way down the row of beds until he saw Tonks on the next bed. She was injured rescuing the Mackaby family from Edinburgh.

Without her strange collection of Muggle and magical clothes, the witch actually looked…quite beautiful. He couldn't help but notice that Carlisle had to strip her down to treat her curse, and with only a blanket to cover her Harry saw a voluptuous woman grown, with none of the lithe slimness that his girls still possessed.

"Like what you see?"

Harry felt his cheeks burn as Tonks smiled tiredly up at him.

"You're beautiful, that's for sure," Harry said with a frank honesty he'd never have had before being bonded to four separate girls. "Too bad they didn't send you to Privet Drive back last summer."

Tonks had to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, too bad. It would have been neat to be a Dame. But Luna's a good girl, she'll grow into it."

"How'd you get hurt?"

Tonks jerked her thumb at Fred. "Saving him. Angie's a tough witch and a damned good fighter for someone with no training. She'd make a great hitwitch. But Fred just stumbled around trying to make jokes until the Ministry hitbitches started throwing curses. I bought them time to get Fred and the family out, but took a cutter to the stomach."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, just another scar to add to the collection. I'll probably look as ugly as Moody soon."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Tonks, I don't think anything short of Polyjuice could make you look as ugly as Moody. That man was scary. Brave and strong, but scary."

"Best wizard I ever knew," Tonks whispered. "His wives hated his guts, so he never saw them. I swear, as ugly as he was, if he wasn't already bonded twice over I would have given myself to him, I loved him so much."

Harry sat down on one of the folding chairs by the bed, and took her hand. "Tell me about him."

She spoke to him about growing up listening to the legend of Alastor Moody, to discover the real wizard even more amazing than his legend. She continued to talk until the potions dragged her down to sleep.

Only then did Harry pick himself up and leave the manor for home where his family waited. On his way to the fireplace, he saw the last person he expected to see.

Amelia Bones stood speaking quietly with Sybil. She looked up when he entered the room and waved him over. "I came to check up on Tonks," she said.

Only then did Harry remember that Tonks and Amelia were close friends. "She'll be okay. I just got her back to sleep."

Amelia nodded. "It was a rough night, sounds like."

"But we saved a lot of people," Sybil noted.

"You did." Amelia regarded Harry intently for a long moment before she said, "You were right, Harry. About what you said those weeks ago. What you're doing is exactly what Lily formed the Order to do. You're saving people who had no one else to save them. Your mother would have been proud."

Though it should not have mattered at that point, Harry couldn't help feel a surge of gratefulness at the older witch's words. "I don't know, I think she would have just taken it for granted. She seemed rather hard to please."

"Morgana's tits, that she was," Sybil said with a sigh. She appeared to be a little drunker than normal, which was saying something. He knew the night had been difficult for her as well. "But she would have been proud of what you did tonight, and early this summer."

"Thanks." He ran a hand through his hair, surprised at how long it was. "Err, any word on the ICW?"

"No, they've been in a closed session since they visited," Amelia said darkly. "And the Light Covens are starting to get worried. We did everything we were supposed to, and proved we had a quorum of covens. By law and tradition, the ICW was supposed to give us a hearing. The fact that we've been completely ignored is worrisome. The Patil Coven is on the verge of doing a runner again."

Harry shook his head. "They don't seem like good allies."

"Enemies of enemies," Sybil said, ever the professor. "The Patils are a dark coven, Harry. For all that one of their daughters ended up in Gryffindor, they practice a branch of ancient Hindu magic that is classified dark for a reason. I understand the wards on their house are powered by a blood sacrifice. But because they're foreign born, they've never found easy acceptance with the other Dark Covens. That's why we targeted them as a potential ally."

Harry shrugged and tried to picture the Patil twins using dark magic. It was hard to imagine, really. "What happens if the International Confederation doesn't respond?"

Amelia deflated. "Things get complicated. Dames don't like fighting each other. You ever wonder why the Dark Sabbat hasn't gone after Dames directly? It's not like they don't know where every Covenstead is. No, they haven't because there's a long-standing tradition of Dames coming back to the greater Circle. Even Molly and Augusta would rather be a part of the larger Sabbat, Dark Covens and all, than wage an actual conflict against their sisters. And so far the Dark Covens have been sticking to that tradition. That's why they've targeted Muggleborns alone."

"If the International Confederation rebuffs the light covens, then most will re-join the whole Sabbat," Sybil said. "Better to be a minority political power than be dead or rogue."

Harry stared at the two women in shock. "After all the Dark Covens did?"

"It's not to that point yet," Amelia said. "We just have to wait and see. In the meantime, we all need sleep. I'm going back to Grimmauld Place."

"I'm going up to bed too," Sybil said. With the influx of students, she and Arabella moved out of Grimmauld Place and now lived full time at Sanctuary like Flitwick.

"Good night," Harry said numbly, watching as the two women went their separate ways. He took another look at the tents that housed their newest refugees, and shook his head. "Even the good guys are barmy."

He slid into nothingness as he _Apparated_ home.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Note**: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.


End file.
